


Arsonist's Lullaby

by theoreoqueen



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy, High Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Prince!Phil, Romance, Royalty, Sexual Content, Witch!Dan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreoqueen/pseuds/theoreoqueen
Summary: Phil, the prince, finds himself on an adventure with Dan, a handsome boy who happens to be the son of the most feared witch in the kingdom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from 'Arsonist's Lullaby' by Hozier :)

The grand ballroom swirled tonight in an assortment of colorful gowns, lively music, and the finest culinary in the land. Handsome lords lifted their partners and spun them in the air. Young ladies giggled behind their feathered fans. This party, talked around the kingdom for years, was a common folk’s envy. Only the lucky could attend.

And the prince was bored out of his mind.

Which was ironic, because this was _ his _ party. His birthday party, specifically. He didn’t even _ want _ a party, but his parents insisted. 

"It’ll be the perfect time,” they encouraged him at first, “to find a suitor!_"_

However, it came to Prince Phil acting quite anti-social for the King and Queen to order him through gritted smiles, “_ You’re going to choose one at the end of the night, or we’ll decide.” _

Neither of those options sounded particularly pleasant to Phil’s ears.

It’s not even that Phil _ needed _a wife. He wasn’t heir to the throne, he didn’t require a partner to run the kingdom with. Still, he was twenty-four as of today. He had never expressed serious interest in any admirer growing up. He remained a bachelor, happy and quiet with his books and plants.

His parents were becoming worried.

Dancing continued on the wide expanse of marble floor ahead of him, skirts twirling in sync. Phil sat at his throne, slouched. He felt his crown sliding askew atop his dark hair, tilting to the left. His expensive blue and gold suit started to itch.

No guest approached to have a conversation. Any greeting was a slight bow and a birthday acknowledgement. Phil caught some maidens staring his way, whispering to each other and grinning like jungle cats, excited for their fascinating prey, but he paid them no mind. 

What did catch Phil's attention were the few lords who also had eyes for him. They would glance at him like a valuable purchase before downing their goblet of wine.

It was preferable to a maiden’s stare, but still, humiliating. To be looked upon not as a person, but a prize.

Phil hated this. He wished he could melt into the floor and vanish forever.

“_Philip _,” came the voice of his mother. 

Startled out of his thoughts, Phil saw her striding towards him with an unhappy face. The Queen, acclaimed for her swan-like gracefulness, now resembled an angry hawk, and Phil was only a helpless mouse.

“Get up, talk to your guests,” she said, firm but quiet enough others couldn’t overhear. “They came all this way for you.”

“They came because of my title,” Phil told her. “Not because of me.”

“_Philip Michael _.”

“You know it’s true, Mother.”

“Please stop slouching.” She put a hand on his shoulder until he did so. “And your crown—Good gracious, child, you look like a hooligan.” She adjusted his crown, fixing his hair and brushing off minuscule flaws from his face. Phil sat there, letting her do her motherly business.

The Queen’s face relaxed as she finished grooming. Her gown, sapphire blue and glittering with silver embroidery, matched her softening eyes. She smiled at him. “Please. Just talk to _ someone _. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Because they want to be the next prince or princess,” Phil mumbled.

The Queen pinched her lips for a moment before exhaling from her nose. “Philip, dear.” She brushed hair aside from his forehead. “I love you very much, you know that?”

“Yes.”

“And I want you to be happy.”

“I _ am _happy.” 

She sighed. “Listen. Times can be hard nowadays. With raids or burglaries...or fear of that dreaded _ witch _.” She shuddered with that last word. “This party is a blessing to the kingdom. They came to celebrate happiness. As should you.” 

Standing upright, she gave him a final knowing look before joining the King again, greeting the guests and thanking them for coming.

Phil refrained from rolling his eyes. He knew his mother was right. Growing up a prince meant knowing duty came before love. Even if that meant marrying a lady instead of a lord.

(It’s not like his parents were aware of his desires, anyway).

Reluctantly, he stood from his throne and made way into the crowd.

The staring was obvious. At least no one was_ throwing themselves _ at him (thank the Royal Guards). Phil smiled politely at the guests who curtsied hastily or bowed from the waist. He kept walking, for fear of stopping meant conversation.

“A drink, Your Highness?” asked a waiter, offering the tray of goblets. Phil accepted and thanked him. Perhaps some wine would help. 

This choice of accepting a beverage was a grave mistake for Phil’s plan. Because he had stopped walking, and now guests were bravely approaching.

“Hello, your Highness!” said a chorus of maidens, each wearing a dress of a chosen primary color. They bowed in unison. Phil chided himself silently from not escaping sooner.

“We hope you’re having a lovely birthday,” said the girl with the red dress. Her smile was a bit forced.

“Thank you,” Phil said, and distracted himself with drinking.

“Will you dance with us?” asked the maiden in the blue.

“Oh. Uh.” A string of curse words rang off in his head. If only he could evaporate on the spot. “You’re very kind. But I’m afraid I’m a terrible dancer.”

The girls must have took that as a ‘_ yes _.’

The music became fast and cheerful, with the fiddler dominating most lyrics. Phil’s first partner was the maiden in red. A gap separated her front teeth and she stood at least a foot shorter than him.

“Your castle is _ divine _, your Highness. Absolutely exquisite. I’m Lady Astrid Rosemunda Emlyn Eleanor the Fifth, but you can just call me Astrid, your Highness.” She batted her long eyelashes up at him.

Phil accidentally stepped on her shoes at least seven times throughout the dance. After he apologized profusely, her flirty nature faded out of existence. 

He caught a glimpse of his parents across the room. His father pinched the bridge of his nose.

The maiden in blue was taller, so Phil felt less awkward making conversation with her. “I live up north, right on the edge of the Whitefang Mountains,” she told him. Freckles dotted her nose.

“I see, uh.” Why did he always struggle with small talk? “I’ve never actually been up north.”

“Really? But you’re the prince.”

“I...never had a reason to leave the Capitol.” He shrugged. “B-but I hear the Whitefang Mountains are sometimes called _ Green _fang in the summer. You know, because...there’s no snow…”

His joke trailed off with her face of disinterest. She rightfully ignored him and continued conversation.

“My father hopes to move closer to the Capital. There’s better security here, he says.” She rolled her eyes as if she’s explained this a hundred times. “All those rumors of enchanters running rampant. I think it’s an overreaction. But,” she then smiled toothily, “closer to the Capital means closer to _ you _.”

Phil laughed nervously. “Right.”

The maiden in yellow was the youngest of the three, Phil could tell by her rambling excitement. “This is my first ball! I saw your fountain in the front! With the horse statue in the center! It was so beautiful. Do you like my dress? My handmaidens say the lace is so fine, it must be made by a fairy. But that’s silly. It’s silly, right?”

Phil looked over for his parents again. His mother caught his eye and quirked an eyebrow. He grimaced in return before having to turn away to continue with the dance.

His uncoordinated footing, however, had him stepping on her long skirt. Stumbling and shrieking, she slipped out of his arms and went tumbling to the floor, arms flailing above her blond head. Phil froze out of pure shock. 

The dancers around them stopped at the noise and gasped at the scene. Thankfully people came to help her up, and Phil didn’t know what to do with his hands as he stuttered out apologizes.

He didn’t dare look at his parents now.

The party went on as the sun descended behind the castle’s tall windows, rippling orange across the horizon. Phil searched for another drink. Thankfully no guest was interested in dancing with him given what just happened with his last partner. No waiters in white suits could be seen among the rainbow of color from the guests. Phil huffed and continued through the crowd.

Near the back of the ballroom, he found a tray abandoned upon a table. Four goblets sat atop, and Phil exhaled in relief at the sight. Three drunken lords, old enough to be Phil’s father, were the only ones occupying the area. 

Finally, he could breathe.

He took off his crown and placed it on the table next to the tray. It was slipping again, anyway. Grabbing a goblet, he stared at the red liquid for a moment, feeling simply exhausted and letting that realization crash upon him. 

Birthdays were his least favorite holiday. There’s no getting out of a day when all attention was on him.

A tilt of the goblet and Phil gulped down the wine. The men next to him laughed loudly at something another had said, and they slapped their shoulders as drunken, happy men do.

“Another?” one asked, lifting his goblet.

“Aye,” the other two agreed. “To the kingdom!”

“To our King and Queen!”

“To the Royal Guards!” another said. “For keeping that _ fucking _witch at bay.”

“Aye!”

“Cheers!”

The three took their drinks, emptying their cups and smacking their lips when finished. “I wish nothing but hell for her,” one mumbled, referring to the witch again.

“May whatever devils exist beyond death,” another added, “give her the proper punishment for the suffering she brought upon us.”

“Aye.”

“Cheers.”

“That’s pleasant,” came a new voice. Startled, Phil almost spilled his own drink. In his eavesdropping he had forgotten that other people could also talk to him.

The person in question wasn’t anyone as hungry as the three dancing partners. He appeared around Phil’s age. Tall, with warm brown eyes and hair with these wavy brown curls. His suit was black, and Phil appreciated the touch of little silver buttons. 

This guest stood as if he too felt uncomfortable in crowds, which Phil could empathize. But, he was eyeing the drunken men still blabbering to each other, and his mouth tilted in a wry smile.

“Oh,” Phil said. He gestured at the men and shrugged awkwardly. “I think they were just, uh, talking about the witch. The one that, uh, terrorized the Capital—”

He was on the urge rambling, damnit. Why did he always do that? Of course this guest would know which witch it was. Only one was famous enough to instill fear in every citizen’s heart, be the monster in children’s stories. Phil, you absolute _ fool _.

But, miraculously, the guest’s smile grew. “Oh, I know. Such a cheerful topic for the prince’s birthday.”

Huh. Interesting. Did this boy not realize Phil was the prince in question? Well, he did leave his crown on the table… “I mean, it’s relevant. Not the—I meant the witch. Uh—” He kept stammering, and he wasn’t sure why. Clearing his throat, Phil began again. “Apologizes. What is your name, my lord?”

The boy’s eyebrows jumped at that last word. “Oh, I—” He paused. “Howell. Lord Howell.”

Phil smiled. “It’s a pleasure, Lord Howell.”

Thankfully, Lord Howell turned out to be pleasant company. Phil offered to grab him a drink as well and they became two wallflowers, chatting and drinking away at the edge of the party scene.

“I don’t think,” Phil said to him, “I’ve ever seen you at one of these events.”

Lord Howell squinted in amusement. “Do _ you _come to these events often?”

“Not out of free will, I’ll tell you that.”

That made Lord Howell chuckle, and Phil felt proud of himself for doing so.

“Well, for me,” he told Phil, “it’s my first time actually. It’s not all that alluring, to be honest.”

“People tend to romanticize it,” Phil said.

Lord Howell gestured in agreement. “Exactly! I think that’s the entire problem not only with royal parties, but society as a whole. Upper class lifestyle is seen as a goal for everyone to achieve, but actually it’s a really damaging illusion that only keeps lower class citizens from perhaps seeing the unfairness which keeps the class system in place.”

Stopping, Lord Howell seemed to realize he had rambled far more than necessary, and quickly took a drink. Phil just gawked at him in fascination.

“I—yeah. You’re right,” Phil said, and Lord Howell perked at that. “Even the library is better than here.”

“It’s less crowded there,” Lord Howell pointed out.

“I prefer that.”

“Me too.”

They stared at each other for a moment, until the moment allowed them to break out in flustered, bubbling giggles.

However, right then a waiter passed by and gave them both a confused expression. Freezing until the waiter continued walking, their eyes then met and they paused before both holding in a laugh. 

Yes, this was already so much better than Phil’s previous birthdays.

“Let me guess,” Lord Howell said, swirling the liquid in his cup. “You’re here to witness the prince choose his future bride tonight?”

Secretly Phil _ loved _ that this lord had no clue of his identity. For once someone wasn’t ogling at him like fresh meat. “Actually, no,” Phil replied, surprising Lord Howell. He wasn’t _ lying _ . “I’m here because my parents forced me to attend.” _ That _was true. “What about you? Are you interested in the prince?” He hoped he wasn’t stepping out of line. Genuine curiosity made him ask.

Besides, he liked Lord Howell’s company.

...And he had nice eyes.

Lord Howell snorted. “Nope. I mean, I knew it was his party and the purpose was for him to find a wife but.” He shrugged. “As if the _ prince _would ever look my way.”

“What?!” Phil said, a tad too loudly. Nearby guests turned their heads and gave them odd looks. He lowered his voice. “Lord Howell, if I may, you are _ the _ most interesting person at this party. Anyone, royalty or not, would be _ idiotic _not to have eyes for you.”

Lord Howell took a drink as pink colored his cheeks. “You’re very kind.”

“I’m being honest.”

“But you’re also incorrect.”

“Hey!”

Lord Howell laughed, eyes crinkling. His shoulders shook, like his whole body was in on the joy. It was radiating.

Phil kept staring at him. Oh dear. He _ really _liked Lord Howell’s company.

A fantasy spun in Phil’s mind. One where he swooped Lord Howell in an epic romance, that he revealed his true title and Lord Howell would be astonished but accepting. Perhaps they could run away together, far away. The Eastern Beaches, perhaps. Lord Howell could be the one Phil proposed to. His parents would be so thrilled he didn’t end up alone. 

And Phil…

Phil could almost see himself waking up to those eyes when the sun came in golden through his curtains. Then he would kiss those pink lips and—

“Hey,” Lord Howell said, his wrist lazy and the empty goblet turning horizontally in his grip. “Wanna get out of here?”

Phil blinked. “Huh?”

Lord Howell grinned. There was still flush in his cheeks. “You said you didn’t want to attend this party. We could leave. Walk around the Capital. It gets interesting at night, especially in the back corners. There’s this pub with the strangest games...and this tower where you can see all the stars, and…” He lifted a shoulder. “It could be fun.” He tried sounding casual, but the thought of showing Phil all this excited him.

Phil knew he was gaping at him. He knew he was just fantasizing about running away but...that was also a _ fantasy _. Go around town? At night? Without the escort of guards? Such a request would make his mother faint. A prince would never exit the castle walls to go to such places. It’s unheard of. Ridiculous.

But. In this moment Phil wasn’t Prince Philip. He was the stranger who befriended Lord Howell. This boy, who wasn’t hunting for a title and saw Phil as _ Phil _for once.

Maybe, for once, his fantasies could be _ true _. Phil opened his mouth, so confident and ready to agree to Lord Howell’s request, when the chandeliers above them went dark.

The two craned their heads up, as did many other guests. Dancing stopped, and people were murmuring amongst themselves. Even the musicians ceased playing, giving one another puzzled looks.

A chill swept through the ballroom. It swayed the curtains. Then, the chandeliers illuminated once again, and—

A woman stood near the thrones.

People cried out at the sight. The guards drew out their swords and Phil’s limbs immobilized him in fear. The woman—could one even call her that?—faced the crowd, her cloud of black smoke evaporating around her feet and legs. She was beautiful, in the sense that daggers and knives and other murderous weapons could be beautiful. Her cheekbones were high and her irises were dark.

Phil’s gut dropped to his feet. He knew that woman. Once, in a ragged dress as she stood above a blood-red river.

No.

Oh no.

“_Get out, witch! _” some brave soul shouted above the clamor.

Her eyes darted that direction. A raise of her hand and suddenly, as if pulled by an invisible rope, that man flew forward. The witch caught him by the throat, locked his terrified eyes, and squeezed her fingers.

From head to toe his body turned to ash in an instant. The room gasped and screamed. With a newly formed pile of dust at her feet, the witch only snapped her eyes up and everyone silenced immediately. The air felt stiff. Phil’s pulse thudded in his ears.

“Where _ is _ he, Nigel?” the witch asked, striding away from the thrones and towards—towards Phil’s father.

“_Malenna _ ,” the King spat, saying her name like a sin. “You should not _ be _ here—we have protection, _ security _from you—!”

“Oh, do shut up.” Her voice echoed loudly against the marble. “I _ know _he’s here. Bring him to me!”

Phil had no idea what she was talking about, and from a distance it seemed his father didn’t either. His mother went pale and clutched on to the King’s arm. Phil should go to them, he should get people to safety, he should do _ something— _

He turned to Lord Howell, who was shrinking back, scared but not like Phil expected. He seemed to want to hide, while everyone else was rigid as stone. Phil gave him a bewildered face, but Lord Howell ignored him. His brown eyes darted left and right, and his fingers twitched against his thigh.

“Who do you speak of?” the King asked Malenna.

“My _ son _ , Nigel,” she snarled. “He’s missing. I used a tracking spell and it led me _ here _ which made me assume,” she placed her hands together, glaring at the King in a vicious manner, “that you _ kidnapped _him.”

“_What?! _”

“Why not? Is it not perfect leverage to get to me? But I’ll have you _ know _ that I have been preparing if this day should come, oh believe me. Do you not also have a son that you care for? Why, isn’t his _ birthday _today?”

The guests murmured in fear again, and now _ Phil _ wished to shrink away. His mother was petrified, and his father still wasn’t understanding the accusation that he _ kidnapped _ the witch’s _ son _.

Lord Howell touched Phil’s arm. “We have to go,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

“Tell us his name,” the Queen said, her voice trembling. “Please. Perhaps our guards could find him if he’s still in the castle.”

Malenna turned her nose and scoffed. However, she replied, “His name is Daniel.”

“We can’t leave!” Phil hissed to Lord Howell.

“No, trust me,” Lord Howell pleaded. “You’re not going to want to be here when—”

“Is that him?” someone shouted, pointing at Lord Howell.

A sea of heads rotated to where Lord Howell was holding Phil’s elbow and Phil was staring at him in concern. 

Malenna’s eyes widened for a moment, then her brow lowered as her irises turned red.

“Time to go,” was the last thing Lord Howell said before a thick black cloud encompassed him and Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and feedback are appreciated! <3 A large chunk of this story is already written out and I can't wait to share it with y'all!


	2. Chapter 2

Phil was four years old when the river ran red.

He didn’t understand _ why _, as he stood on his tiptoes and peeked out of the castle’s window. He was too young. But he did remember the clamor. The hustle of citizens and guards. The sheer panic they all possessed.

The Grand River snaked through the Capital, dodging underneath bridges and slipping between homes. It was a mighty image, one could see it from the castle. The redness of the water made it unsettling—dark and thick. 

The memory was vague, but he did recall a woman standing on a cobblestone bridge which connected one street of shops to the next. She was _ screaming _, hoarse and manic like a deranged animal. Royal Guards in their silver armor marched in packed rectangles from the castle gates to her location.

Phil had watched her, as best as his tiny legs would allow him to. This tower window was too high up, but he identified her mangled hair. Her ragged black dress billowed in the wind, wrapping around her swollen belly.

This was also the first time Phil had ever seen an enchanter.

An enchanter, or an individual who could wield magic, were mostly seen as untrustworthy to a human’s perspective. Unpredictable. Dangerous, even. This woman—this _ witch _—proved that point just fine.

A row of guards approached her, swords drawn and shields held tight. She wailed at them, echoing across the Capital. Nothing about her seemed rational, in fact young Phil was certain a demonic creature _ must _ be controlling her. What sort of person would _ do _such a thing?

Flinging her arms wildly in their direction, a bolt of shocking green light came from the palms of her hands. It rang like a clap of thunder, and the guards were thrown backwards or caught ablaze. The citizens who hadn’t evacuated shrieked and fled from the scene. 

Phil’s mother, the Queen, had hoisted him away from the window from under his armpits. “_ Hide him with his brother _ ,” she had ordered one of Phil’s nursemaids, who he was dropped into the arms of next. “ _ Children. She’s using the children.” _

At that age, Phil didn’t understand how ‘_using the children_’ connected with the river running red. He would learn later in life through history tutors and real life observations. It was hard to ignore the candle-lit funeral services later that week. He then noticed the absence of playmates his age. 

His parents never allowed him to step outside the castle walls alone.

_ “She’s gone now, _ ” his father, the King, would tell him if Phil ever woken up from a nightmare, his chin trembling and tears slipping down his cheeks. “ _ We have the best security in the kingdom. She’s not coming back. _”

“_ But papa _ ,” young Phil had said, his voice wobbling from previous sobs, “ _ what about her baby? _”

Phil had been four years old, but he still understood what the swollen belly under the witch’s ragged dress meant.

His father shook his head and patted Phil’s hair. “_ Don’t think about her anymore, Philip. She’s never coming back here again. _”

* * *

Phil couldn’t breathe.

It was as if a large boulder sat on his chest, pulverizing his lungs. He choked for air and nothing came. His vision was a storm of nonsense. A whirlpool of flashing light swallowed him whole, except he hadn’t moved an inch.

Then the world became steady again. His head stopped spinning but his knees gave out. He collapsed, and his palms touched grass.

It was still night. He wasn’t in the castle.

Where exactly Phil was, he couldn’t think properly enough to know. He just knew he was outdoors, in an open grassy field. It seems as if there was emptiness for miles. The stars were above his head, and his lungs were heaving.

Lord Howell. Right. Phil saw over his shoulder the other boy, who was also on his hands and knees, coughing and straining for breath.

_ Time to go _, he had said. 

Phil stood in a haste. “Where are we?!” he yelled.

Lord Howell responded by vomiting on the grass.

Phil’s shoulders dropped and he hurried over to him. “Oh, gods, um. Are you okay? What happened—”

Lord Howell held up one finger to him. Sick dribbled from his chin. Phil took a few steps back.

He had to think properly again. Hands skidded through his hair as Phil turned in a circle. How in all the hells did they get here? He needed to go home. His family, those guests, that_ witch _ —this was a nightmare. How would he get back? How far away were they?

Phil lowered his hands, remembering a slight detail. He turned back to ‘Lord Howell,’ a frown forming on his lips. “_ You _,” he scowled. “You’re the witch’s son.”

He—Daniel—had wiped his chin with his wrist and sat on his rear now, looking utterly exhausted. Sweat clung his curly hair to his forehead. His eyes went to Phil. “What of it?” he asked, sharpness in his voice.

“_ What— _ ” Phil sputtered. “She was there for _ you! _ She’s an enemy to the royal family and our people and she—she literally just _ killed _someone!” He paused to catch breath. “Why? Why did you come in the first place?”

Daniel remained calm. He blinked slowly. “May I tell you,” he said, “after we rest?”

Phil glared at him. “No.”

“Well, too bad.”

“What—no! I demand you give me answers!” His father would be proud at his authoritative tone right then.

It only made Daniel quirk an eyebrow at him. “Um. _ No _. I saved your ass, and now you’re distrusting of me?”

“You kidnapped me!”

“I saved your _ life _.” Daniel stood up, his legs somewhat shaky. “I know Malenna better than anyone else. She could have put the castle up in flames! She would have squeezed the blood out of the King and Queen and forced the guests to drink it. And gods know what she would have done to the prince.”

“Don’t you understand!” Phil shouted. “_ I _ am the prince!”

Daniel stared at him, expression frozen. He blinked once, then scrunched his eyebrows. “You’re joking.”

“I’m literally not!”

“That’s...no.” Daniel shook his head. “Where’s your crown?”

“I left it at a table! Lord H—Daniel, _ listen _ .” His hands scrubbed across his face in frustration. “I need to go back. My family and people are left behind with your _ fucking mother— _”

“Good thing we’re far away!”

“I need to go and help them!”

“What are you going to do?” Daniel demanded. “Huh? She is feared for a reason, your _ Highness _ , and you fucking saw why. And that’s not even half of it! She’s _ evil _.”

“I _ know _that,” said Phil. He remembered the red river.

Daniel shook his head slowly. “Not like I do.”

They went silent after that, staring at each other. Daniel looked ready to collapse again at a moment's notice. Phil was still processing it all.

They were in the middle of nowhere, with no sense of direction. His parents were at the Capital not knowing where he went. And that witch, that dreaded, cursed _ witch _was there. She was searching for her son, whom she thought the royals had taken from her, and then she saw him with Phil, the Prince.

“Please, just,” Phil said, softer now. “Tell me where you...magically transported us to. Then we could find a village and figure out a plan.”

The Daniel who before had blushed at Phil’s words and gave him teasing smiles was now eyeing him skeptically. “I _ have _a plan. Besides, we’re a few miles west of Lantern.”

“_ Lantern—?! _ ” Phil almost began shouting again. Lantern was located in the northwestern corner of the kingdom, _ days _away from the Capital. He managed to hold in his anger. “Very well. Shall we go?”

Two young men in expensively dressed suits meant for a royal occasion, _ surely _ no one will notice. Daniel nodded, and took a step forward. His body swayed suddenly and the color drained from his face.

“Whoa! Okay, easy.” Phil hurried to grab his arm. “Let me help.”

“‘M fine,” Daniel mumbled, eyes on the ground.

“You _ saved _ my _ life _, remember?” Phil told him, his words teasing a bit. “The least I can do is help you walk.”

Phil wrapped an arm around the lower part of Daniel’s back. He let Daniel’s arm drape around his shoulders. Daniel’s body leaned against Phil’s, but at least he was upright. They began walking forward together.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Daniel.”

He made a small snort. “You can call me Dan.”

“Oh. Alright.” Phil paused. “You can call me Phil. Not, you know,_ your Highness _, or anything.”

Dan smirked at him. “What if I want to? Does it annoy you?”

“I would drop you. And abandon you to the earthworms.”

“_ Fine _, Phil.”

* * *

The kingdom of Raydora, as Phil always remembered, was shaped like a squashed frog.

Not that that was a _ bad thing _, even though his tutors scolded him numerous time for coming up with this concept. Four peninsulas stretched out from the main mass of land. The Capital was at the center of this ‘squashed frog.’ It was the largest city in the kingdom, respectfully. 

Whitefang Mountains were north, blanketed in snow and separating land from the sea. At the southern edge was Oldwood Forest, the largest woods with the largest centaur population. Phil’s brother often joked when they were young that centaurs would come and take away Phil’s rabbit, for a rabbit is a centaur’s favorite meal. Phil would then wake up crying from rabbit-thievery nightmares.

In Raydora, species tended not to mix. Merfolk huddled in their gulf to the west, trolls resided in the mountains, fairies hibernated in their flowery oases, and humans gathered mostly near the center of land, thinning outward from the Capital. However, that did not mean there weren’t towns where species...intermingled with each other.

If Phil’s memory served correct, Lantern was that sort of town.

“Dan,” he whispered, their feet trudging against the gravel path that lead to Lantern’s entry arch. “I need to tell you something.”

Dan huffed and tried his best to stand upright despite having majority of his body support coming from Phil. “What?”

It was quite embarrassing for this prince to admit he hadn’t exactly _ interacted _with anyone outside the human race. (A doctor with one-sixteenth giant’s blood came to mend Phil’s broken wrist five years ago, did that count?) “Well—”

“Wait.” Almost an hour of trekking and now only a few more steps into the town’s light, and Dan stopped them. “We can’t go in like this.”

“Huh?”

“We’re wearing—gods, Phil, _ look at us _.” Dan then pulled away in order to place a hand on Phil’s chest, and after a moment of confusion Phil understood what he was going to do.

“Hold on—Dan, aren’t you weak? After we transported, you—”

“I’m _ fine _.” Before Phil could protest any more, Dan flattened his palm and closed his eyes. The skin around his fingers started giving off a blue-white glow. Phil’s chest moved rapidly with his anxious breathing, then he witnessed his finely made suit melt away like rain, only to be replaced with—

Brown tunic. Grey trousers. A rope for a belt. Phil looked like a common peasant. He sputtered for words, first with the literal _ magic _that happened on his body and then the choice of clothing Dan decided to make for him. 

But Dan was too busy also transforming his black suit to a similar outfit like Phil’s. Except his had a proper belt, and the fabric was all black as well. Was that his favorite color?

“See? Much better.” Except, Dan began swaying again, and Phil resumed position to assist.

“What now?” Phil asked.

Dan blinked a few times and shook his head, as if fending off a headache. “Uh. Right. Sabertooth Inn. We need to go to Sabertooth Inn.”

To Phil’s satisfaction, the town of Lantern had many, many lanterns aglow. This could also do with the fact it was still nighttime. The air smelled earthy, as if it had recently rained. Each building was made of stone, as was the path their boots tapped against.

The streets were mostly empty, which stressed Phil greatly. The shadows couldn’t help him identify faces of passing strangers. “Dan, we’re going to be recognized—”

“Shut up, turn left here.”

Phil did so, helping Dan along. Around this corner a building came into view. Above its door hung a creaky wooden sign illustrating a creature bearing its long fangs.

Dan nodded. “Yep. Here it is.”

The windows revealed yellow light across the first floor. Phil pushed open the door and a bell jingled above them. Dan detached himself from Phil and stood on his own, tugging his tunic straight.

“Let me do the talking,” he whispered to Phil.

At the front counter was a lady. Wait. No. Phil did another take. At the front counter was a troll in a dress. 

At the ring of the bell she turned away from the conversation happening at the other area of the room—a tavern, it seemed. Ah. You can pay to get drunk _ and _stay the night. She saw Dan, and her eyebrows jumped. “Well, well!” Her voice sounded like crunching gravel. “If it isn’t sweet little Danny!”

Phil hadn’t moved from the threshold, for he was still in shock to see a _ troll _right in front of him. He knew they existed, he just wasn’t prepared for the sight. Dan, however, casually leaned an elbow on the counter. “Maisie, you’re looking lovely as ever.”

Considering Phil was not an expert on troll beauty, he assumed he shouldn’t judge. Maisie was short and stout, like a well-desired pear, though her arms were abnormally long. An insane underbite displayed two white fangs, similar to the teeth on the inn’s sign. Greyish-green skin contrasted oddly with her pink dress. Her hair was black and sparse, sticking up in places around her jutted, pointy ears. Two beady eyes squinted at Dan.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “And where’s your darling mother?”

“I’m not with her anymore,” he replied flatly.

“Oh ho! And I’m sure she’s _ real _happy about that!” Maisie hooted at her own statement, laughs turning to coughs.

Dan remained unamused. “Can we have a room, please?”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t caught you by now, honestly.” Maisie wiped her eye.

“Lantern is a goldmine of protection charms. Malenna would have to navigate through a hundred other warlocks on the run as well.”

“Fair enough.” Maisie then glanced Phil’s way. “And who’s he?”

“A friend.”

Phil nodded quickly.

Maisie frowned deeply. She tapped her thick fingers on the counter top. “Since when do you have friends?”

“A _ room _, Maisie.”

“So—so let me get this straight,” she said. “You run away from your mother, _Malenna, Lady of Darknes_s, pick up a random boyfriend, and now are looking for a room at my establishment?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh, sugar. Not gonna happen.”

“I’m not his—” Phil began.

Dan whipped his head around. “_ Shh _ .” Then he went back to Maisie. “One night. We’ll leave at dawn.” Reaching into his tunic, Dan pulled out what appeared to be a rolled up parchment. “I’ll even pay you for your troubles with _ this _.”

Maisie immediately became very interested. “And what exactly is that?”

Dan unrolled it. “Only the spell for the strongest protection charm ever invented. I nicked it from my mother’s collection.” He grinned. “After I use it, it’s all yours. I won’t need it anymore.”

Maisie’s mouth parted in awe. Her large hands were already reaching out for it. “That would be worth a lot in gold…” She blinked twice. Her frown returned, stubborn now. “Very well. _ Fido, keys! _”

Phil yelped when suddenly a four-legged creature hopped onto the counter top. It was _ hideous _, as if a rat and monkey bred and that offspring acted like a small dog.

“Don’t worry about him, Fido wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Maisie smiled fondly and scratched Fido’s head, right next to his big, circular ear. The creature thumped his back paw happily.

Taking the ring of keys from his mouth, Maisie handed Dan a brass one. “Second floor, third from the left.”

“Thank _ you _,” Dan told her, stuffing the scroll back in his shirt.

“What _ was _that thing?” Phil whispered to Dan, hurrying up behind him as they ascended the wooden staircase.

“Remember when I told you _ no talking? _ ” Dan hissed back. “I’m not joking when I say literally _ no one _ can know who you are, alright?”

“Dan, the rat-thing on her desk!”

“Fido? Just my last form of payment to her.” He noticed Phil’s horrified expression. “What? He was a spell gone wrong, I didn’t want to _ keep _him.”

Maisie, for some reason, had granted them a room with only one bed. It was small and cramped, nothing like Phil’s bedroom at the castle. There he had a canopy bed and a fireplace and view of the castle courtyard, where gardeners would carefully grow beautiful flowers. This view was of the alleyway, and Phil could hear someone pissing on the pavement.

Dan claimed the bed instantly, flopping belly-first on it. “Ugh,” he mumbled, muffled by the pillow. “Still smells like a chicken farm.”

Phil awkwardly walked forward as well, not wanting to be the only one flustered by this situation, and sat at the edge opposite to Dan to unlace his boots. Their shared nightstand had an oil lamp which gave the room a golden glow. Dan was so silent and still Phil figured he had already fallen asleep. Fine by him, he could then undress in peace and go to sleep without—

Just as Phil’s fingers started unbuttoning his tunic, Dan sprung up. Phil squeaked and dropped his hands instantly. 

“We’ll need to leave shortly after dawn, remember?” Dan said.

“Yes, I heard,” Phil said, voice high.

“Wonderful.” Dan kicked off his boots and hurriedly crawled under the blankets, as if getting comfortable had a time limit. “Best to be well-rested. We have a long journey ahead.”

He snapped his fingers once. The oil lamp went out on its own.

Phil stood there in the dark, buttons only partially undone on his shirt. He stared at the lump of Dan, who now acted as if he was fast asleep.

After pondering his choices, Phil copied him and went under the blankets, keeping a respectable amount of distance. He could feel his hands shaking so he bunched them under his thin pillow. This was _ fine _. It was fine. It was just a bed and this was only one night. Phil wasn’t some sort of posh naive royal who couldn’t handle sleeping next to a stranger.

Even if that stranger was a witch.

The blankets were plain and grey and unpleasantly itchy. Phil was still staring at the lump next to him.

“Dan?”

No response.

“_ Dan? _”

“Good _ night _, Phil.”

“What is the plan for tomorrow? You’re taking me back to the Capital, right?”

“_ Phil _, I’ll—we’ll discuss it in the morning.” Dan burrowed further under the sheets.

Phil was quiet only for a moment. “How often have you tried running away from your mother?”

“I said _ good night _.”

It’s a very odd thing, to force your body to relax and your mind to shut up after your whole life had been swept out under your feet. Phil thought about his parents. Any news about the castle’s recent events wouldn’t have even reached Lantern by now. Were they dead? Safe? Worried about him? What about his brother, or his brother’s betrothed? And all of the guests? They all had families who were expecting them home that night. Oh, this was all just a massive nightmare…

Dan snored in his sleep. Little intakes of breath audible enough Phil could hear. It was weirdly calming. He focused on that, _ really _telling his brain to shut up now. A good night’s rest and he’ll be heading home in the morning.

Somehow.

Hopefully.

* * *

Dan was awake and out of bed as the first rays of sunrise peeked over the horizon.

Phil woke to him scuffling around. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, realizing the loss of human heat next to him and recalling that he was not in his castle, but in some shifty inn on the outskirts of the kingdom. And his only companion was the son of the most feared person in all the land, _ right _.

Kneeling on the floorboards in front of their bed, Dan had the scroll open and lying beside him. He read it, muttering words under his breath as he swept his hands slowly over his extended limbs. His hands were doing that glowing thing again, this time a shade of violet. Bags were under his eyes, and a sheet of sweat covered his brow.

Phil stayed in bed and didn’t bother him until he was finished.

Maisie accepted the scroll happily and ruffled Dan’s hair too. “You stay outta trouble, alright Danny?” She even gave Phil a playful pat on the back (which, by her strength, almost knocked him off his feet). “You didn’t talk much, but I like you too. Take care of him, will you?”

Next were the supplies for their journey. “I can’t transport us with magic,” Dan had explained, “since I just cast that protection charm this morning. It’ll break the minute we land.”

Dan acquired horses from a thin man under a thick cloak. This seller had one eye and five missing teeth. He traded Dan two horses for tiny, delicate silverware. He ogled over his newly acquired spoons as they walked away, Dan holding the reins.

Phil recognized the silverware, however, all too quickly and frowned at Dan. “Did you _ steal _those from my castle?”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna be _ missing _them,” Dan pointed out.

Apparently, Dan had other little knick-knacks stashed in his pockets that he traded the street vendors and shop owners for more supplies. A shell necklace crafted from a mermaid in exchange for fruits and vegetables. An amulet meant to ward of lycanthropy traded for blankets and pillows. So on and so forth.

Phil kept wondering how Dan owned such items. Perhaps that was just a perk of being a witch’s son.

However, a catch of Dan’s plan was that one of their horses was meant for carrying the supplies (Her name was Raspberry. Her black mane was silky and there was a stripe down her nose. She gave Phil skeptical eyes, so he stayed his distance). While the other horse (Edith, who had a grey coat and spots on her hind legs) was meant for riding.

Both of them. Together.

“It’s convenient,” Dan explained, hopping up onto Edith with ease. “My protection charm is powerful but limited. If you are to be hidden too you need to stay close to me.” He looked at Phil. “Always, okay?”

Phil gaped up at Dan. Did he not realize that two rather _ tall _ young men riding on the same horse was not exactly _ subtle _. Especially if a passerby were to see they had another perfectly suited horse as well…

Also, Phil admittedly wasn’t the biggest fan of horses. In fact, they were his least favorite domesticated animal. Creatures who he never mastered growing up. They were too high up from the ground and too fast for his taste. And why did they _ smell _like that?

His first jump onto Edith was dramatically unsuccessful. His legs didn’t swing fully and he almost tumbled and fell to his rear. Raspberry snuffed and batted her tail while Phil heard Dan hold in a laugh. 

“Wow, you are clumsy,” Dan said. He let one hand off the reins and held it out to him. “Here, let me help you, Prince Klutz.”

The _ worst _part, Phil discovered soon enough, was not that Edith was so far from the ground. It was that he, being seated behind Dan as Dan controlled the reins, didn’t know where to put his hands.

Heat prickled to his neck for an unknown reason. Embarrassed, Phil just sat there with his hands on his lap. They were heading out of Lantern and through a different gate than where they came in. It was early enough that the sun breathed pale yellow haze among the dull blue sky.

Dan looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Phil. “It’s _ okay _, you know.”

“What?”

Dan snorted and reached around to grab both of Phil’s hands, tugging them to link around his torso. “There. Comfy?”

The heat flamed up to Phil’s cheeks now, but he nodded. 

Clopping hooves against gravel path became the only noise for the longest period of time, until the sun crept up high above their heads. Phil kept nodding off, the exhaustion of waking up so early after such a chaotic night catching up to him. 

He yawned once, and that made Dan laugh (Phil felt the vibrations against his chest).

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” Dan teased.

“No,” Phil almost yawned again.

“It’s fine. I’ll make sure you don’t slip off.”

Now _ that _was Phil’s biggest worry. He shook his head. “No. I’ll stay awake.” He scooted forward, only a little, just to get more comfortable. “Talking helps.”

“Alright. What shall we talk about then? Lovely weather we’re having here today.”

“Mhm...”

“Not a fan of weather commentary? Fair enough. What do you royals talk about daily? Ah...the, uh...diamonds look shinier than usual, your Majesty!”

Phil cracked a smile. “Ha ha.”

“Spot on, yeah?”

“Completely.”

“Damn, I’m good.”

Phil smiled more and let his head drop forward, resting his forehead on the back of Dan’s hair. It was soft, he noticed. Exhaustion kept him from reconsidering this position. Besides, if Dan was uncomfortable, he would say so, right?

“Where are we headed?” Phil asked.

Dan didn’t comment about it whatsoever. “Upwart. It’s a town about thirty miles away, but there’s someone there I need to talk to.”

“Someone?”

“Well, someone with information, yeah.”

Phil frowned to himself. Clopping became background noise again. “You said last night you had a plan.”

“...I did.”

“What—what exactly is that?” Phil lifted his forehead away from Dan’s hair, frowning still. “Because I told you I need to go back to the Capital—”

“Phil—”

“There’s people there in _ danger _and I am their prince—”

“I know, I _ know _.” Dan’s body tensed. “Listen, I—we’re going to go to the Capital eventually, alright?”

“_ Eventually?” _

“There’s things we need to do first!”

“Like what?” Phil asked. Not angry really, just sincerely wondering.

Dan sighed. His hands fidgeted with the reins. 

They stopped midday to let the horses drink out of a nearby river. Fields upon vast open fields expanded ahead of them. To their right, wheat moved like waves. Hypnotizing, even, like a grand golden sea. Dan sat on the green grass and patted the spot next to him for Phil to join.

“There’s a spell,” Dan said, dumping out items from his pockets (So many random knick-knacks). He found an old and wrinkled parchment and laid it out flat. “I found it hidden in my mother’s study. I thought it was a myth, but it _ isn’t _. It’s Old Magic, something enchanters have abandoned…”

Phil craned his head and read the script on the page. “The Lunar Covenant?” He grimaced. “_ ‘Covenant’ _ doesn’t sound that good.”

Dan grinned. “But it _ is _ . Phil, it’s—you don’t _ understand— _” Dan’s hands practically shook with excitement. He flattened the parchment out more. “It’s the most powerful spell ever created.”

Phil continued reading the page, unsure of Dan’s statement. “It says..._ Blessing of the Wise, Kiss of the Beauty, Light of the Darkness, Victory of the Gallant, Heart of the Truly Beloved _…”

“Yes, those are the ingredients to cast this.”

“Ingredients?”

“Spells aren’t _ easy _, Phil. Especially one as old as this. Once we gather everything on this list, it will release magic so strong, it can end even the darkest power alive.”

“Your mother?”

Dan’s eyes were on the parchment. He swallowed and nodded.

“How do you...how do you know all this from a piece of parchment with five lines on it?” asked Phil.

Hesitating, Dan’s mouth parted and his chest hitched. He glanced to the side. “Uh...well.” He wetted his lips. “Malenna may be...wanting to use this spell...for herself.”

Phil’s eyebrows furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she want to end herself?”

“No, see...that’s just _ one _ of the things this spell can do,” Dan explained. “One can cast it to end all evil... _ or _ one can cast it to become the most powerful, indestructible being alive.”

“_ What?! _”

“That is why,” Dan folded up his paper and stuck it back in his pocket. “I’ve been preparing and researching this for a while.” He stood as Phil continued gaping up at him. “And we’re going to get those items first.”

“We?”

“You wanna save your family, right? Your citizens?” Dan offered a hand again. “Then we’re doing this, together.”

Phil just stared at him, this information hitting him like a storm. To think, the night before he had such simple problems. Attend a ball, find a wife. He found Dan instead, who just so happened to have an adventure strapped to his back.

He brought a hand up and let it grasp with Dan’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and feedback are appreciated! <3 thank you for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

The town of Upwart was definitely a place Prince Phil would never be allowed to step in.

One might describe it as a home for ruffians and scoundrels. Buildings crammed tight and sounds of jumbled clamor mixed with alcohol-induced laughter. It was evening, and taverns and pubs were all the rage.

Phil saw dirty men tipping rum into their mouths, spilling liquid on their chins. Busty women were cackling loudly, teasing up their skirts to any onlookers. Music thrummed from the bar next door, and a satyr was squaring up a man with a serpent tattoo across his arm. Onlookers were taking bets, and the satyr took the first swing.

He and Dan had dropped down from the horse as they approached the entrance. Phil stayed closer to Raspberry’s side than he would have preferred—perhaps he thought she would protect him.

“To another inn?” Phil asked, though his voice could barely be heard over the noise. Some gentleman shouted curses at his companion, telling him to “ _ crawl back into your mother’s cunt, you two-faced goblin shit _ ” and honestly Phil really wished he were any place else.

Dan shook his head, leading the horses around a corner. “Sadly no.”

After the horses were left at a stable, Dan led Phil into a tiny pub squashed between a brothel and, surprise, another tavern. Gods, if his parents were to see Phil now.

_ Black Juniper _ was probably the tamest pub in the entirety of Upwart. Incense clouded the room, making all the yellow lanterns hazy dots. A fairy with actual wings was bartender, and she was taller than Phil expected. With her purple eyes, she shot both of them unfavorable looks.

“Dan…” Phil whispered. “What if someone recognizes—”

“Over here,” Dan interrupted, tugging Phil’s elbow and steering him around the cluttered tables. Consumers were quieter than the outside pandemonium, but they didn’t look any more trustworthy. What exactly was Dan’s mission here?

In the back near a dust-covered window, a warlock gathered her earnings from her recent win at a card game. She had a pointed hat that was patched and stitched tremendously. Her deep blue cloak bore designs of the stars and moon. Though her opponents grumbled and slammed fists on the tabletop, she only laughed, showing off rows of canines, and promptly scooped the gold coins into her cloth pouch.

“Now, now,” the warlock said as the opponents stood, harshly pushing aside their chairs. “No need to make a fuss. Ladies don’t like sore losers, Brutus!”

“Fuck off, Yvette,” snarled a burly man with now-empty pockets.

She only kept chuckling and counting her coins. Dan took this opportunity to slide into one of the empty seats, and Phil scuttled to join.

Yvette glanced up. Her eyes were greener than emeralds, and snake-like slits replaced the pupils. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She plopped the last coin in her pouch and tied it shut. “No offense, Danny, but I thought you’d be dead.”

“Do I look dead to you?” Dan asked.

“Behind those pretty brown eyes of yours?” She smirked. “Always.”

“Phil, this is Yvette,” Dan said to Phil, gesturing his palm out to her. “She’s one of the cleverest warlocks I know, but with a terrible gambling addiction.”

“Oi!”

“You know it’s true,” Dan said to her.

“I have been alive for three centuries, Danny, and do you know how many card games I’ve lost? Huh?  _ One _ .”

“Do you cheat?”

“I don’t need to answer that question.”

He turned back to Phil. “If anyone knows about the whereabouts of the ingredients, it’s her.”

Interest perked her ears. Yvette leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. Her hair was incredibly springy, all her curls cascading from under her hat and around her shoulders. “Ingredients? Whereabouts? Danny James, what are you getting into?” She grinned, showing off those sharp teeth again.

“It’s not exactly something we can discuss here,” Dan told her, indicating at the pub consumers nearby. 

She stuck out her bottom lip. “I don’t wanna move. This is my lucky seat.” She glanced at Phil. “Is this your servant?”

“No,” said Dan.

“Slave?”

“ _ No _ , Yvette.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Boyfriend? Danny, you got a boyfriend?”

“I’m not—” Phil began.

“We don’t have that much time, Yvette,” Dan said through gritted teeth. “Are you going to help us or not?” He locked eyes with her. “You  _ owe  _ me.”

“ _ Ugh _ .” She rolled her eyes dramatically, tilting her head back and slumping into her chair. With a stubborn glare at Dan she raised a hand and rotated it in a circle. A  _ whoosh  _ swept around the table, then for a moment Phil’s ears clogged, as if he were underwater. The next moment everything went back to normal, except the people surrounding them were muffled.

“There. A silencing charm.” She folded her arms and propped her feet up on the table, crossing her ankles as well. “You happy?”

“Very much.” Dan brought out the wrinkled parchment. “My mother plans to cast the Lunar Covenant.”

Yvette blinked thrice. “That’s impossible. Such a spell would—”

“Make her as powerful as a god? I’m aware.” Dan smoothed out the paper and slid it to her. “What we plan to do is to get the ingredients first and use it to counter her spell. Thus destroying her.”

Yvette snapped her fingers and the parchment zipped through the air and into her hands. She brought it to her face, almost touching her nose. Her eyes darted back and forth with the writing. “This is insane, Danny. The amount of magic to accomplish this would frighten even the highest trained. And  _ you’re  _ going to take it on, of all people?”

“Yes.”

“Last time I saw you, you could barely start a fire without fainting.”

“I’ve gotten better,” he said, although red came to his ears.

She continued reading. “And you realize it only works under the peak of a lunar eclipse? That’s hardly a month away.”

“I know.”

Yvette lowered the paper. “My gods, you are crazy.”

“We  _ have  _ to,” Dan told her, and Phil looked over at him. If nothing else, Dan was determined. His elbows were on the table and his hands were folded. He was alert, prepared. Even with Yvette’s words, no one could convince him otherwise. 

Sighing, she only dropped her feet to the floor and set the paper on the table, leaning in much like Dan was. “Alright. So you have five ingredients.”

“ _ Blessing of the Wise… _ ” said Dan.

_ “Victory of the Gallant... _ ” added Yvette.

“ _ Light of the Darkness… _ ” Dan went on.

“ _ Kiss of the Beauty... _ ” Phil remembered. _ _

“And the  _ Heart of the Truly Beloved _ ,” Yvette finished. She smiled and folded her hands. “How very simple.”

“Some of these are so abstract,” Phil said, shaking his head. “How would one even acquire some of these?”

“Well, luckily, some are quite easy,” Yvette told him. “That one,  _ Light of the Darkness _ , is literally a hint about the eclipse, no doubt.” She pointed at another line. “Some of these, like the Blessing, that will just be something you will receive in an abstract way, as you put. The spellcaster would have to be the one to possess all of these ingredients, of course.”

“So…” Phil said slowly, adding the pieces in his brain. “Dan has to be one to get a, Kiss or whatever, then it’s always upon him?”

Yvette smiled. “Precisely.”

Phil nodded, joining the two on leaning in. “I see. But the others can be actual physical things?”

Yvette winked at Dan. “I like him. He’s curious.” She then turned to Phil. “Yes. A Kiss can just be a kiss, similar to the Blessing, but the Victory could be a sword or a medal. A Heart has to be, well…”

“An actual heart?” Dan asked, face going a little pale.

Yvette shrugged. “It’s possible. None of these are set in stone.”

Phil scratched his chin. “Interesting...so all of these ingredients, there can be multiple examples?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “My gods, Phil, we’re not in  _ school  _ right now.”

Yvette told Dan to  _ shush  _ before smiling at Phil again. “You’re correct. It’s like that with all spells. As long as your interpretation of the ingredient is as true as intended, it will work fine.”

“Well, we need it to work more than just  _ fine _ ,” Dan said, taking the parchment back for himself. “Can you help us find these ingredients, please?”

Yvette tapped her fingernails against the tabletop, twisting her mouth at Dan. “I can help you with some,” she said. “But I want you to understand how  _ dangerous  _ it’s going to be for you to cast this—”

“Yvette, I know, okay?” Dan snapped.

She frowned. “Very well.” As she thought, she stuck the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. “Rumor has it...the merfolk’s chieftain has a daughter claimed to be the most beautiful maiden in the land. She outshines every species in Raydora, so they say.”

Dan nodded. “Okay. The Sapphire Sea isn’t too far.”

Yvette tapped her chin. “The only other one I can think of is…” She snapped her fingers. “Olena! That hag who lives in Oldwood Forest, she can give you a blessing.”

Dan kept nodding, the cogs turning in his head. “Sapphire Sea...Oldwood Forest…”

Bringing her feet back on the table, Yvette shrugged. “That’s all I got. Everything else is too vague.” She tilted her head at him. “But you’re a smart kid. I’m sure you’ll find the others.”

“Thank you,” Dan said, standing and stuffing the paper into his pocket. The charm Yvette cast vanished, now the pub was in full volume.

She waved her hand. “Not a problem. Come back and visit more, eh? I mean, I know you couldn’t because of your mum, but...that’s not stopping you now!”

Thudding footsteps approached, and Yvette’s eyes widened as Dan and Phil both turned to see that same burly man from before with anger screwed on his face. 

“ _ Yvette _ ,” Brutus growled to the warlock. Two of his equally muscular friends came up as well. “ _ Take your filthy, cheating hands off our gold _ .”

Yvette laughed nervously. “Well, boys! Time to go!” She clapped her hands twice, and vanished in a sparkling blue cloud.

Brutus blinked several times out of shock before snarling again, then turning on Dan and Phil. “You two know her?” he demanded..

Phil’s limbs might as well have been locked in ice. Dan smiled awkwardly, shrinking down in height as Brutus loomed over them both. “I-I mean…” Brutus’s two friends cracked their knuckles. “Time for us to leave too, Phil!”

A hand grabbed Phil’s, and instead of being transported as Phil expected, Dan tugged him into a running haste. They sprinted out of the  _ Black Juniper _ , bumping into tables and consumers and causing foul-mouthed curses to be thrown their way.

Phil’s heart raced like a bird as they sprinted down the crowded street, weaving in between drunk people still laughing at stupid jokes and dancing to joyful music. People cried out in annoyance and some didn’t even notice the commotion. Dan kept clutching Phil’s hand and darting them far through the ruckus. Phil could hear Brutus shouting in the distance, losing them amongst the intoxicated and uncivilized chaos.

The stables where Edith and Raspberry calmly ate their hay was so quiet compared to the rest of Upwart. The two hurried and hid behind the wooden stalls, legs giving out and lungs out of breath. Phil’s chest heaved and his skin was buzzing. Brutus and his buddies were nowhere to be heard.

Dan’s head thumped against the wooden stall, giggling like a boy who got away with a prank. “That was close,” he said to Phil, breathless.

“They were so  _ mad _ ,” Phil added, in awe of their triumph. “Oh, my gods, that was  _ crazy _ , Dan. We just...we just  _ ran  _ and it was... _ insane… _ ”

“I know, right?” Dan’s eyes crinkled. He seemed to be glowing from the thrill. “We’ll be fine, though.” He took out that parchment with the spell again, gazing over the words. “The Sapphire Sea is what, forty miles from here? Fifty?”

“Near the butt of the squashed frog,” Phil said.

Pausing, Dan turned to him, the corner of his lip curled. “What?”

“The...Raydora, you know. It’s shaped like a squashed frog.” Phil felt stupidly embarrassed. “It’s how I always remembered it.”

Dan considered this. “Huh.” He pouted out his lip and raised his eyebrows. “Kind of? Wait, actually, you’re right. It  _ does  _ look like a frog.” He then laughed at Phil, amused but not mocking. “That’s really clever.”

Phil’s chest lightened, and it wasn’t from the running. He smiled. “Thanks.”

They slept in the stables—no one would bother them except for the horses. Dan dozed off first, curled atop the pile of hay and face shadowed by the single glowing lantern hanging from the ceiling. 

From his spot on the same pile of hay, Phil watched him. 

Dan at peace was mesmerizing, like seeing a lake without a single ripple. He was snoring again, soft like last night. Why on earth was that fact so endearing?

He didn’t know why, but Phil counted the freckles on Dan’s cheeks before slumber took him as well.

* * *

“How are you nothing like Malenna?”

The spontaneity of Phil’s question made Dan sputter. “What are you on about?” he asked with a laugh. It was late morning, and they were on Edith’s back again as Raspberry trotted beside them.

Phil shrugged, his arms linked lazily around Dan’s torso. He felt less awkward today. “Your mother is this horrible monster. I’ve heard so many stories of her growing up—I’ve even seen her dark magic one time. When she poisoned the Capital’s river with children's blood. We hired triple security after that. It was sickening.”

“Yeah...she tends to do that.”

“But you,” Phil lifted his head up, looking at Dan while Dan stared forward, “you’re the opposite.”

Dan snorted. He still smelled of the hay they slept on last night. “Uh, thanks? I mean, that’s good, but…” He paused. “I think you’re wrong.”   


“What? How?”

“There’s the fact I’m her flesh and blood? You can’t really argue against that.”

Phil twisted his mouth, unsure of how to respond.

The horses needed another drink by midday, so they stopped next to a wide river surrounded by tall grass. Dan silently made the decision that they should bathe. Phil silently agreed to keep watch—in case of any innocent passersby, or worse.

His back was to Dan out of decency as Phil sat on a tree stump too short for his long legs. He couldn’t stop thinking about Dan’s words.  _ You’re wrong. I’m her flesh and blood _ . Did Dan not realize that children were not their parents? Phil, of all people, should know this.

The King and Queen were honorable and respected. They had high expectations placed upon them, as the same for their children. Phil’s brother, the heir to the throne, was the intelligent, athletic, and diplomatic one. He’s been mastering royal life since he could walk.

Phil assumed his parents wished him to be more like his brother. He knew they loved him and all his quirks. But Phil became the quieter one, the one who stayed inside reading instead of sparring on the fields. They knew he liked the quiet. He liked being able to think by himself without others judgement. Books about dragons provided more entertainment than swinging a sword. 

He wondered if his family were thinking of him now, or if they were too scared to think of anything. But Phil pushed that thought away for the moment. It sent a horrible twist in his gut, and that wouldn’t help anyone. 

A splash behind him pulled him out of his thoughts.

Then a muttering of, “ _ Fuck, it’s cold _ .”

Phil knew he shouldn’t turn around. Countless mannerism tutors taught him about modesty, and yet…

Curiosity won.

It was a glance, short and simple. His brain convinced itself he was making sure Dan was alright.

A glance. The river ran deep enough to reach Dan’s waist. His naked back was to Phil, smooth and long. Dan cupped water within his two hands and scooped it up to his hair, running wet fingers through his curls and shaking them out like a dog.

Just a glance. A lovely vision indeed. The front of Phil’s trousers gave a twitch, and he faced away quickly. His cheeks burned, and suddenly he had a fixation for the grass underneath his boots. 

Nonsense jumbled his brain while panic sped his pulse. Clamping his jaw, he exhaled roughly through his nose. Okay, okay, so this was an issue.

_ Don’t think about him, don’t think about him _ . Alright, but  _ not  _ thinking about Dan only made him think about Dan  _ more _ .   


Naked back. Little droplets of water clinging to it, sparkling from the sunlight. His waist reached the water, but what about underneath the surface—Phil think about literally  _ anything else _ .   


Squeezing his eyes shut, Phil pressed the heel of his hand  _ hard  _ to his embarrassingly growing erection. Honestly, he’s not a teenager. The sight of someone bathing…even if it’s someone who admittedly was fairly attractive like Dan…should not give him this uncontrollable arousal—   


Great. He’s thinking about Dan again.   


_ Grandmother’s scary portrait, _ Phil chanted to himself, flushing out his previous images.  _ The smell of horses. The dimples on Dan’s back and how they’re right above— _

Phil,  _ stop _ .

_ Rotten cheese. _

Why was this even happening?!   


Distant splashing, and Dan must have emerged from the river. His hair matted to his forehead and dripped onto his shoulders, but his clothes were back on. Phil opened his eyes in time to see him  approach, and frown at Phil’s stature.   


“What’s wrong?” he asked.   


Shaking his head, Phil stood, not really meeting Dan’s eye. “Nothing,” he said.   


Dan studied him up and down. “Alright…” He didn’t sound convinced.   


It took some time for Phil to look at him again, and forget about his fantasies before.

* * *

In the evening, Phil spotted a stranger’s campfire in the distance.

Dan told him not to worry about it.

Phil worried about it.

In the end, they approached the stranger’s campfire.

Their camp was small and their mule was munching on some dandelions nearby, but the stranger herself was more than happy to have some company.

“We’re heading to the Sapphire Sea,” Phil informed her after a proper hello. “I’m—Michael. And this is my friend James.”

“My dears, you must be famished! Please, take some stew!” She offered some from the bubbling pot over her tiny fire. “I am Freya, the mystical fortune teller!”

“Oh,  _ gods _ ,” Dan muttered to Phil, stirring his bowl of stinky stew. “She’s one of  _ those  _ people.”

It was understandable that Dan, an actual witch, was cynical of someone such as Freya, a mere human. Her sleek hair tied into a tight bun and her shawl glimmered from the fire’s light. Bracelets jangled from her wrists every time she moved her hands dramatically with her words, which was quite a lot.

“You can see the future?” Phil asked, curiosity taking hold.

She nodded proudly, shuffling nearer to him on her log. “The fates do not lie, sweet child.” Freya gestured for Phil’s hand, and Dan fought back an eye roll.

It was quite funny to see Dan so annoyed by such attempts at magic. Even if this woman wasn’t  _ legitimate _ , she was still entertaining. Besides, his stiff exterior from their conversation before melted with this newfound irritation.

Phil couldn’t help but sneak a smile his direction.

“Ah, yes…” Freya examined Phil’s open palm, her thin lips parted as the tip of her index finger traced the lines. “My dear, I see you have an ultimate challenge coming up. A major life decision!”

“That’s not vague at all,” Dan mumbled into his spoon.

“ _ James _ , be nice,” Phil said to him, smirking at Dan’s fake name and how Dan reacted by sticking his tongue out. He went back to Freya. “Sorry about him.”

She waved and smiled. “No worries. With couples, there tends to be a believer and a skeptic.”

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Ah! A line here!” Freya pointed at his palm again, eyes wide in excitement. “Obstacles and hardships are to be had, but there’s a  _ hint  _ of something more!  _ Love _ , even—!”

“Okay,  _ thank you. _ ” Dan interrupted, setting down his bowl and taking Phil’s hand away from Freya’s. “You’ve been  _ very  _ hospitable, but,” he shrugged without sympathy, “it’s getting late, and our horses need attention.”

Confused, Freya waved them farewell, her bracelets jangling. Phil returned it before hissing at Dan, “Hey, I was finally getting answers!”

“From a woman banking on universal coincidences.” Dan’s gaze slid to Phil’s, and he chuckled at his glare. “C’mon, Phil. Even  _ real  _ magic can’t predict the future.”

Horses were less entertaining than Freya, so Phil grumpily laid out on the grass while Dan tied them up for the night. They camped near a bundle of trees, thin but clustered enough to house a hooting owl. At least the stars twinkled clearly above in their ink-black blanket of a sky.

Phil distractedly made shapes out of them right before Dan joined him on the grass, also shuffling to lay on his back. “You’re not mad at me for taking you away from future-lady, are you?” Dan asked, teasing.

“Look, there’s Fido,” was Phil’s initial response. He pointed up above their heads. “Right there, see? That’s his nose...and if you go that way you can see his weird monkey tail.”

Dan followed his finger, squinting slightly. “Huh.” His mouth curled. “You’re right, there he is.”

“In the stars, watching over us.”

“That sounds like a fucking nightmare.”

“Fido, the rat-monkey sky guardian.”

“Gods help us if that ever becomes real.”

They laughed together, irritating Raspberry. She flicked her tail at them and huffed. Dan’s head rotated to Phil, his cheek pressed to the grass. “Are you mad?” he asked again.

Phil sighed this time and folded his hands over his chest. “No,” he said. “Although, I really wanted to know if there was anything more she was gonna say.”

“Like what?”

“I...I dunno.” he opened his hands out. “Maybe love really  _ is  _ around the corner for me.”

Dan snickered. “Did anyone catch your eye at your birthday ball? I saw plenty of options in that crowd. Noble ladies from all across the land, all  _ ogling  _ after the bachelor prince.”

Phil grinned, although the truth wasn’t all that funny. “I don’t—I don’t care much about the attention of ladies.” His face warmed. That was the first time he admitted that out loud. “But it doesn’t matter. Everyone is more interested in my  _ title  _ than anything else.”

Dan didn’t say anything. He tilted his head back up at the night sky, mirroring Phil by folding his hands as well.

Silence settled between them. Crickets joined the owl’s tune. Phil didn’t mind the quiet, in fact he preferred it, but the air between him and Dan felt too weird to ignore. 

“So, we could probably reach Bremington before midday, yeah?” Phil said, referring to the closest village from their location.

“Uh-huh,” Dan replied, partially paying attention.

“Well, if you want to meet that mermaid—”

“You almost left with me that night,” Dan interrupted. “Remember, before Malenna came? You...you were about to leave the palace with me.” He rotated his head again, questioning eyes on Phil. “Why? You knew you had to stay and pick a suitor.”

It seemed like an eternity ago, honestly. “I—don’t know. I mean, I  _ do  _ know. You were nice to me, Dan, can’t that be enough? You showed interest and...I was just being  _ me  _ and—” He blushed slightly. “I liked your company. I  _ still  _ like your company.”

“ _ ‘My company?’ _ ” Dan repeated, smiling again. His dimples were showing.

The two were close, closer than Phil realized before. Their shoulders brushed with the slightest movement. With a nudge forward, their noses would touch.

Phil’s pulse spiked without warning.

He remembered Dan in the river, torso bare and water dripping from his curls. He remembered Dan in the Upwart stables, admiring Phil’s imagination instead of mocking it. He remembered how it felt to wrap his arms around Dan as they rode together, trading stories and jokes. 

He remembered the night at the ball, how could he forget? Dan was laughing and flirting and Phil had never been happier while in a crowd. For a moment, he considered choosing Dan. He had imagined them marrying, kissing even.

Dan’s lips were very close now.

Phil’s brain went stupid at the sight.

Tension clogged the air, Phil could feel it suffocating his lungs. He didn’t know whether to breathe more or not at all. Dan kept staring at him, all doe-eyed with pupils darkened by the night. Why were they so pretty in the first place?

“I—” Dan began. His voice cracked. He coughed and blinked twice. “I should check the horses.”

As if Phil had forgotten he literally had done so right before lying next to him. But Dan was up and gone, examining the ropes for Edith and Raspberry.

Phil remained where he was, stuck staring at the spot where Dan previously laid.

His pulse still sped like a hummingbird.

_ Oh no _ , he realized.

This might be a problem.

* * *

At first, Phil thought the rustle of noise was their nearby friend Freya.

However, a palm crushing his mouth proved him to be wrong.

Still in that same patch of grass, Phil woke in a panic. Air surged through his nostrils and his eyes flew wide. A large, sweaty hand covered his mouth, and a bent knee painfully pinned his arm.

It wasn’t Dan doing this. A bright lantern shone in his face before a grin of a grimy, one-eyed man came into view, just inches away from Phil’s face.

“Hello there, pretty boy,” said the man, voice sinister. “Sleep well?”

“Tie him up with his friend,” ordered another. Laughter came after that. A group of people? Fuck, someone followed them. Murderers, thieves,  _ worse? _ They should’ve been on watch. Fuck,  _ fuck _ , where was Dan—?

Typically, Phil’s body would have remained petrified in fear. But now, sudden courage had him open his mouth as much as possible under this vile man’s palm. He waited until there was enough space between teeth and flesh, then he bit down. Hard.

The intruder yelped and almost dropped the light. He shook his hand and hissed out his choice of curses. But it wasn’t long until he snapped angry eyes at Phil, and a snarl to follow.

“Think you’re clever, eh?” The man closed that same hand into a fist.

He couldn’t even dodge away. One slam to the head and Phil’s vision went totally dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

The second time he woke, Phil was sitting up.

And he wasn’t at their campsite.

People were talking and his skull hurt too much to process language. He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. His ankles were tied, as were his wrists, which wrapped behind him around a column.

How did he get in an abandoned fortress?

“We ain’t killing him,” said one of the voices.

“I don’t wanna fucking drag him halfway across the kingdom!”

“He’s got a nice face. Pretty blue eyes. I know he’s the prince, but you realize how much he’d sell as a slave?”

Phil came fully awake at that.

“Let’s worry about Malenna’s boy first,” said the voice of the first one. Sharp and louder than the rest. The leader, Phil guessed.

“Fuck that witch,” snarled another. “Let’s sell him to one of her enemies. I bet they’d pay us  _ triple _ .”

Murmurs came in agreement. The group was excited by this idea. Phil, however, was twisting his wrists, trying to wiggle out of the impossibly tight knots. He needed to get out of here. How the hell was he gonna get out of here?

A groan came from behind him. Phil stopped, then peered the best he could around his shoulder. Another body sat on the opposite side of the column, wrists and ankles also tied. His head lolled to the left, brown curls dangling.

“ _ Dan? _ ” Phil whispered. “Gods, Dan, can you hear me?”

“Malenna’s price is guaranteed!” the leader argued. “She told every bounty hunter across the land that if  _ anyone  _ brought her the boy, she would grant them lifetimes of fortune.” The murmurs stopped completely. “And you’re willing to give that all up?

“Dan,  _ please, wake up _ ,” Phil pleaded, wiggling his body as if that might help.

Another groan from behind him. Dan’s head slowly came upright, only to thud against the column. He swiveled his neck to look at Phil. Blood trickled from his forehead. “Phil?” he croaked.

“Gods, what happened?”

“Where are we...?”

This abandoned fortress was all grey bricks and cracked windows. They were stationed on the first floor, given the scenery of rustling trees outside. Dead leaves cluttered the corners or stuck in the broken floorboards. Cobwebs decorated the ceiling. Surely, a family of bats lived somewhere.

Phil’s head still throbbed and he found it difficult to gather any coherent thoughts. “We were taken. Bandits. Whatever. They want to take us to your mother?”

“What?”

“She’s already spread word. Bounty, you know.”

“Fucking shit.”

“Oi, are you two talking?!”

The two of them looked up to spot the man who had punched Phil beforehand. He was towering and carried the largest pair of shoulders Phil had ever seen. His missing eye was sewn shut. All of his teeth were rotten.

“Mr. Axton, please,” came the voice of the leader, stepping forward. His smile, directed down at them, sent horrible chills down Phil’s spine. “Wonderful, you two are awake!”

Dan spat on the floor before growling, “Release us, or you will regret it.”

The leader scoffed. He was thinner than his companions, but held himself like a champion. A dark cloak stretched from his shoulders to his toes, almost putting him a silhouette. Platinum blond hair stuck flat against his skull. He reminded Phil of a storybook vampire.

“I’m not scared of a silly little boy and his royal boyfriend,” the leader stated. “Not when Malenna gave us every precaution we needed to know.” He lifted his chin. “Now. Shut up and sit tight. You’ll be back in mummy’s arms soon enough.”

“I’m not his—” Phil tried to say.

“Fucking untie us  _ now! _ ” Dan’s shout echoed off the hollow room.

“Or  _ what _ , boy?” the leader asked. “Hiding something?” Without warning, he strode forward and, without warning, rummaged  into Dan’s tunic pocket. Dan couldn’t squirm away, and the leader tugged out one of his knickknacks.

“What do we have here?” he mocked. It wasn’t anything special in the least. A crafted pendant hanging from a cheap string.

Though, Dan’s eyes were wide in fear. He pulled hard against the robes.

The leader scoffed and tossed the pendant over his shoulder. It clattered against the floor, Dan’s eyes following desperately after it. Utterly lost, Phil couldn’t come up with a conclusion on why that knickknack was so precious.

However, the leader wasn’t satisfied, so he roughly searched Dan’s pockets again. “Aha!” He discovered a wrinkled paper, and held it out for his unimpressed team to see. “He  _ is  _ hiding something!”

“Congratulations,” said a new voice, a blue-skinned fairy with two swords strapped to her belt. She seemed rather annoyed. “So anyway, you’re splitting all payment equally.  _ Right _ , Zephyr _ ? _ ”

Sweating, Dan now  _ yanked  _ at his bound limbs hopelessly. Useless feet scraped against the floorboards. Panic flared up in Phil. He twisted his shoulders, trying anything. “Please,  _ don’t _ . We’ll give you money, anything—”

Zephyr the leader unfolded the paper and examined it, frowning. “ _ Lunar Covenant? _ What is this, some of your witch bullshit?”

He took the corners of the paper and tore it in half. With those pieces he tore it one more time, then tossed it over his shoulder as well.

“ _ No! _ ” Dan cried out.

“ _ Zephyr _ ,” said the fairy with swords. 

“Yes, yes, the payment. Funny you should mention that…” Zephyr now turned and strode away to deal with his impatient group.

Dan panted harshly, eyes in perfect circles and darting around. Wrists burning from the rope, Phil slumped back against the column, ignoring the throbbing of his head and gritting his teeth.

“Dan—” he began.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Dan, we’re outnumbered. We need to—”

“Phil. Listen to me.” With his position, Dan turned the best he could to look at his face. There was hysteria in his expression, but well hidden by poised determination. “I’m going to cast a spell. It’ll take care of all of them, but the minute that happens you  _ run _ , do you understand?”

“ _ What? _ ” Phil hissed. “Dan, you’re joking. You’re weak, and your magic—”

“ _ Don’t _ tell me I’m weak.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Or... _ they’ll _ hurt you. Either way, it’s too risky. There’s gotta be another way.”

Dan locked his eyes. “You’re far more important than me, okay?”

“They’re talking again,” grumbled a bounty hunter.

“Then  _ shut them up _ , will you? Mr. Axton, I’m sure they won’t be needing their tongues on this trip.”

Mr. Axton chuckled deeply. He stepped away from the group and took a jagged knife from his belt. Phil shrunk away the best he could.

“On three,” Dan whispered, flexing his fingers. “One...two…”

“Dan, don’t—”

He didn’t hear Phil. Mr. Axton raised the knife at the two of them, and then the entire room erupted in a bright light.

Not just any light,  _ fire _ .

It came, wielding like a whip from Dan’s hands. The ropes binding their wrists and ankles disintegrated away in an instant. Phil scrambled to his feet and hurried to a wall, hearing people shrieking and the flames roaring.

The fire didn’t just catch on their ropes, but the floorboards and cobwebs too. Orange and yellow blaze licked it all up, spreading like a tide. The bounty hunters didn’t know how to react. Some unsuccessfully hustled to safety which couldn’t be found. A few drew their weapons, aiming for Dan, the witch’s son who did this.

Dan stood in the center, rigid as a mountain with his fists clenched tightly. The coils of flames snapped around him like untamed snakes. He was the eye of a storm. His eyes glowed pure white. 

Near an exit that wasn’t blocked by the fire, Phil coughed and his eyes hurt from the smoke. But he couldn’t just  _ leave _ , not without—

Any arrows shot at Dan turned to ash before it hit him. Any throwing knives met the same fate. Trapped, the bounty hunters retched or cried out. The ceiling began to crack above their heads. 

Phil couldn’t stay much longer. He crawled towards the door, shoving it open and greeting the clear outside world.

“ _ You fucking bastard! _ ” Zephyr shouted, and Phil turned. He was one of the few hunters left standing. “ _ Your mother will have you skinned alive for what you did to my— _ ”

He didn’t finish his sentence. A coil of flame smashed into him instead.

Phil was on the edge of freedom, about to run as Dan asked. There was a forest nearby, he could dash there and find sanctuary.

The fortress burned and collapsed from the inside out. Dan still stood there in the midst of the flames. Though, his shoulders dropped and his fists unfurled. He blinked, and the glowing white of his eyes disappeared.

His knees gave out and he fell to the floor.

Crackling fire consumed every corner it could reach. And Phil looked at the world of peace and then inside at this chaos.

He stepped inside, heading for Dan.

Black smoke blocked his lungs and itched his eyes painfully, but he managed to get to him without prevail. The floorboards creaked dangerously and Phil grabbed Dan’s shirt to at least lift him upright, trying to gather him in his arms.

He saw, lying next to Dan and the ashes of the Lunar Covenant, the pendant Zephyr threw aside. Without thinking, Phil took it and stuffed it in his pocket.

Heat thrummed around them and the fire was uncontainable. Another chunk of the ceiling fell, barely missing the two of them but landing to erupt a cloud of embers. Phil threw Dan’s arm around his shoulders and trudged as fast as he could to the exit.

Miraculously, they arrived on grass, but that was the easy part. These bounty hunters raided them of all their items, minus the clothes on their backs. No supplies, no horses, and a fortress being eaten by fire. It could spread, or attract some more dangerous people. They needed to leave.

Dan was still unconscious, face in the grass. Heaving for air, Phil looked around for something. Anything. A miracle most likely. These bounty hunters must have came on horse and wagon, because the wagons were still here but the horses were not. Fled from the fire, probably. However, one remained, bucking against its reigns.

In a hurry, Phil half-carried, half-dragged Dan to this wagon. It was small and open, so while the horse continued panicking Phil dropped Dan in the back.

His uncertainty of horses was shoved down. Phil waved his arms awkwardly at the creature, meeting its eyes in an attempt to calm it. The horse was large and as black as the smoke pouring from the fortress’ windows. As it huffed from its nostrils, Phil patted its nose and mane, saying over and over, “ _ It’s okay, it’s okay. _ ”

Dan hadn’t made a sound but Phil was up at the front of the wagon, taking the reigns and snapping them once. The horse trotted quickly away from the burning fortress, heading into the cluster of shadowed trees.

_ What now, what now?  _ He didn’t have a plan and while that secretly frightened him, Phil had to remain level-headed. This wagon was bare of any supplies but Phil discovered a forgotten cloak under the driver’s seat, and within that a small pouch of coins.

As the horse hurried on this uneven path, he glanced back at Dan. He still laid on the floor, unmoving. Phil gulped and turned back.

After an hour of just hurrying as fast and far away from that fortress, the sky faded to darkness. Raindrops plucked down from the canopy, slow at first but soon showering hard. Phil hunched his shoulders and pushed wet hair out of his eyes. He threw the discarded cloak atop of Dan, shielding his body.

It was getting harder to see or even gather which direction to head. Phil luckily spotted a wooden sign through the rain. The village of Vanden was just six miles south. He tugged on the reins, guiding the horse that direction.

Trees began to thin and when the village finally approached, Phil almost cried from relief. It was small, that was for sure. He had to cross a short wooden bridge over a skinny river to get through the entrance. An inn was a few buildings down.

Admittedly, Phil must’ve looked like a lunatic barging into this quaint inn at ungodly hours. An elderly woman with a bun of grey hair hurried to the front counter after the bell tinkled off, her nightgown on and her eyes unsure of Phil’s presence.

“May I help you, sir?” she asked, eyeing his dripping, soot-covered clothes and alert expression.

Phil felt befuddled with such a simple question. His palms were on the counter, and he tried to remember his princely manners and not begin blurting hysterically. “A room. I need a room, please.” His voice cracked, but the innkeeper nodded slowly and started to write this down. “And—my horse. Wagon. Uh. The stables.”

“Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“My friend. He’s—he’s hurt. He needs help. I need medicine. Food. Please.” Phil brought up the pouch of coins and dumped a pile on the counter, more than necessary.

The innkeeper blinked rapidly, shocked by the payment. “Oh my. Y-yes, sir. Right away.” She gathered the money before calling out for her employees to assist.

A stable boy came to take the horse and wagon, while two other teenage boys went to help Dan move inside. Phil assumed by their similar appearances, they were all grandchildren of the innkeeper. 

Their rented room was larger than what the average customer likely paid for. It had a bed with white sheets and a stone fireplace opposite to it. Behind a folding paper screen was a bathtub with fresh towels and soap.

Rain pattered against the window glass. The elderly innkeeper returned along with two teenage girls (more grandchildren) who prepared the bath and checked on Dan. He laid on the white sheeted bed, soaked, and head propped up on pillows. One girl with ginger hair took a basin and rag, cleaning the wet grime and dried blood off Dan’s face. The innkeeper plopped a leather bag on the nightstand, taking out a thermometer and stethoscope.

“What happened to him?” the innkeeper asked Phil.

Phil, just standing there facing the bed while a puddle formed under his feet, opened his mouth wordlessly for a moment. “He…” Dan hadn’t even flinched since he collapsed in the fortress. His chest moved so slow one might mistake him as dead. “Fainted. But he’s been like this for hours.” Tears stung his eyes. “I... I don’t know why.”

The girl cleaning Dan’s face looked up. “Could he be in a coma, grandma?”

The innkeeper checked up on him. She listened to his pulse and pried open an eyeball. After feeling his forehead, she commented, “He’s boiling up. Perhaps a fever.” She clicked her fingers at the girl busy with the bath. “Holly! Fetch me some cold water.”

They tried their best up until dawn. Phil just stood there, stagnant as a tree. One girl, Holly, offered to bring him food between her rounds of fetching something. The other girl, Wylla, tried to at least have him sit down by the fireplace. 

He sort of forgot how to react to all of these. Pity came to their faces.

Morning came, and Dan didn’t wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for the comments thus far! I cherish every one dearly <3


	5. Chapter 5

Phil had dismissed the women and stayed in the room alone with Dan, trying to care for him on his own. 

The problem was that growing up in a castle, everyone took care of  _ you  _ for you. He hardly knew how to do that now, much less for Dan. It was humiliating, feeling this useless.

He ate breakfast on a chair pulled up next to the bed. Eggs and sausage. Until then, he hadn’t realized how famished he was. The windows were open and a breeze accompanied them, along with faint noises of life on the streets.

“You know,” Phil mumbled, not sure if he was talking to Dan or himself. “I think I’m a rubbish prince. I didn’t even know this village existed until last night.”

Unsurprisingly, Dan didn’t respond.

Next, Phil cleaned himself off in the bath, having the screen drawn open fully to keep an eye on the bed. The warm water relieved him from the rain last night. Dan only breathed soundly the entire time, not moving an inch. Phil stayed in there longer than preferred. His knees ached from being bent for so long and the water went cold. He was too busy worrying to notice.

Wylla returned in the afternoon, smiling and bringing them both a new pair of clothes. “How is he?” she asked.

Phil sighed. “Nothing different than last night.”

Wylla’s smile dropped. “Oh. I’m terribly sorry.” She shrugged. “I could get the village doctor? He’s more qualified than my grandmother—”

“N-no!” Phil stammered. “Uh. That’s fine.” The more he thought about it, the better it was that a minority of people knew about Dan’s condition. If anyone discovered his coma was influenced by overuse of  _ magic _ , they could quickly find themselves in deep trouble. “Thank you, though.” He quickly shut the door on her bewildered face.

His new tunic was grey and his trousers were a dark blue. Phil exhaled a long breath as he dropped on the empty spot of the bed. This huge room and only one bed. Exhaustion hit him too much to care.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” he whispered, rolling over to face him. Dan’s profile gave off a soft halo from the afternoon sun. Phil could see the freckles on his cheeks. “I wish...I wish I knew what to do.” His throat felt funny. But he didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t  _ going  _ to cry.

But sadness only hurried his exhaustion. Phil reached out and let his fingers brush the sleeve of Dan’s shirt, then he fell asleep.

* * *

The next day, Phil put himself in a committed schedule.

First thing in the morning he woke up and fetched cold rags for Dan. Wringing them out above the basin, Phil gently pressed the rag to Dan's forehead and cheeks. It helped cool his temperature, if only a little. Then Phil ate breakfast and bathed, watching Dan again. Afterwards he wrung out more rags and cooled Dan’s face once more.

Wylla and Holly cleaned their room late morning, and so during this time Phil forced himself to step outside and visit the horse. He felt terrible for this animal, whose owners vanished and was now in a mysterious town. Phil petted its long nose and chatted with the stable boy, asking about food and grooming.

“What’s her name, by the way?” the stable boy asked.

Phil paused. “Um.” He didn’t even know the horse’s sex until now. Thinking, Phil studied her appearance before answering, “Penelope?”

Penelope sounded like a solid name.

Lunch came and Phil returned to the inn. At the front desk was the elderly innkeeper, chatting to a new customer. Phil walked past them and towards the kitchen, although he did catch their conversation.

“Haven’t you heard, ma’am?” asked the customer, an old man with an impressive mustache. “The Capital has been overthrown. That witch cast this magical shield across the entire city, trapping people in and keeping any aid out.”

“That’s awful,” said the innkeeper, hand on her chest.

“Aye. They say there’s a bounty out for her son. Bloody bastard kidnapped Prince Philip. Have you heard anything about that?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t, Mr Crawford. But I’ll keep my ears open.”

Phil hurried faster.

Back in the room, he ate his soup silently, cross-legged atop his empty spot on the bed. Dan kept silent beside him. Phil thought about that man’s words down in the lobby. How long did they have until Malenna took more control? Or until another bounty hunter found them?

When he set his bowl aside, something caught his eye on the nightstand. The pendant. The one Phil nabbed and Dan panicked intensely over. Phil grabbed it and held it to his eye-level, studying carefully.

The string it hung from was small, as if meant for a child. The charm itself was wooden, crafted by an amateur. The shape, carved from a knife, was of a crescent moon.

How strange.

Later on, Phil became prone to daydreaming. He liked this inn. He missed his family. He thought about the plants in his bedroom left unattended and the books in the library he loved. Little things like that.

Wait. Books. Hadn’t he come across one about…?

Asking Holly and Wylla for assistance, he managed to acquire some ingredients from the inn’s kitchen. He’s read so many books, it’s no surprise he skimmed some on herd-based antidotes. Hopefully, memory served right and he wasn’t wasting his time.

Over the fireplace, Phil stirred up a few testing elixirs. He racked his mind for the information, trying to recall if that book said basil or onion, snapdragon or daffodils. 

Once finished, he poured some in his empty soup bowl and brought it to Dan, letting the aroma rise to his nose.

Not a stir. On to the next experiment. At least Phil felt like he was  _ trying _ .

When evening came, it rained again. Phil kept the window opened, and cool air contrasted with the cozy fireplace. He leaned against the windowpane, watching the storm and the people below on the street. 

That’s when a sharp inhale came from the bed.

Phil whipped around. There, lifting a hand to his face, was Dan.  _ Moving _ . Phil rushed to him, almost tripping over his own feet while doing so. “Dan—”

“Phil?” Dan’s movements were sluggish. He squinted over at him. “What...happened…”

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” At Dan’s side, Phil was grinning like a lunatic. He couldn’t help but touch Dan’s arm, feel his forehead, just witness how  _ alive  _ he was. His chest soared and he honestly felt like crying from total relief. “How are you feeling?”

“‘m tired,” Dan said with a yawn. “I ache all over...did I fall off a mountain?”

Phil laughed, and his voice squeaked a bit. “No. That would be pretty spectacular if you had.” He stood, still grinning. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

The girls were overjoyed to hear Dan was awake. They brought both of them dinner of cooked chicken and chopped carrots, but Phil offered to take care of him alone. Dan ate slow, hands shaking and barely keeping his head upright. Phil helped him, though, even when Dan tried to protest.

“Where are we?” Dan asked him, putting his plate aside.

“An inn at Vanden.”

“Vanden?” Dan said. “That’s... _ shit _ , that’s three days east from Bremington.” He sighed. “How did we get here, exactly?”

Phil scooped up some of his own carrots, sitting on the bed beside Dan again. “You passed out after your...fire magic, I guess. I took one of the bounty hunters’ horses and rode here.”

Dan’s eyebrows rose. “Whoa.”

“That was two days ago, though.”

“I was asleep for two days?!”

Phil grinned. “One would think you’d be well-rested by now.”

Dan dropped his head to his pillow, blowing out a breath. “We lost the parchment. With the Lunar Covenant.”

Phil paused eating. “Yes.”

“Shit.”

“It’s fine. I remember what it said.”

“Still...damnit.  _ Damnit _ .” Dan rubbed his face. “We’re behind on schedule.”

“It’ll be  _ fine _ , Dan. Your health is more important.”

“ _ My— _ ” Dan snorted, then stopped himself. He rotated his head over to Phil. “You shouldn’t have went back for me. You’re the prince. You should’ve just left and gone far away from it all.”

“ _ Dan _ .” Phil stared at him pointedly. “I wasn’t going to  _ leave you _ . Not after all we’ve been through.”

“Yeah, but.” Dan sighed. “I—I’m not worth it.”

“What?”   


“Worth  _ saving _ , Phil.” His mouth twisted as his voice rose. “You saw what I did, how I... _ killed _ those people. I burned them, Phil. That’s not up for debate.”

“You did it to save us,” he said. “To...save me.”

“Yeah, and I blacked out afterwards,” Dan muttered. “Some hero.”

“Dan—”

“Malenna’s flesh and blood. Just how she planned.”

“ _ Hey _ .” Phil’s face went stern. “Don’t say that. Without you, we would’ve been worse than dead.” He began gathering their empty plates, somewhat passive-aggressively, and then stood to take his abandoned bowls on the nightstand.

Dan noticed. “What are those?”

Phil didn’t want to look at him. “Elixirs. I dunno. I tried remembering healing remedies I read about and made some in an attempt to wake you.”

When he walked away, he didn’t notice Dan watching him.

Steady rain continued on outside as evening crept onto night. Dan fell asleep again—perhaps two days really didn’t leave him well-rested. He curled on his side this time, hugging the pillow he slept on. Phil hadn’t spoken to him since dinner.

Secretly, he hated it. He hated arguing with Dan. So as he slept, Phil went back to the opened window and watched the outside world. Blurry lanterns and yellow windows stood out starkly against the blue-black night. Horses clopped against the cobblestone street and the wheels of carriages splashed puddles. A mother shouted for her children to come inside or they’ll catch a cold.

He leaned his temple on the windowpane. Selfishness wished he could stay in this tiny village forever, away from princely duties and the evils of the world.

A creak sounded off behind him but Phil didn’t look over. There was shuffling and a swish of fabric. Only when the footsteps approached him did he tear his eyes from the storm.

The sight of Dan standing surprised him. But there he was, wobbling a bit but coming up next to him at the window, seeming somewhat cautious. His brown hair was tousled and hints of purple crescent-moon bags sat under his vulnerable eyes. A blanket from the bed wrapped around his shoulders like a cocoon, but Phil could see a hint of clothing underneath. Dan had changed from his previous outfit to the white tunic and chestnut-brown trousers left for him.

Phil caved, and cracked a smile. “It’s so weird to see you in light colors.”

A corner of Dan’s mouth lifted, and he looked down at himself. “I know, right? But they’re comfy, and don’t smell like a campfire.”

“I should’ve asked them for something in black,” Phil said. “Since it’s your favorite color.”

“How did you know that?”

He shrugged. “I guess I just noticed.”

Dan nodded, turning to watch the rain. It was quiet for a moment. Just the constant thrum of the storm. Cool, earthy air soothed the front of them. It was pleasant.

“Hey, uh,” Dan began, fingers fidgeting where they clasped his blanket. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Before.” He cleared his throat, glancing at Phil. “I guess I’m just not—I’m just not used to...” He shuffled awkwardly on his feet. “Thank you.” Finally, his eyes met Phil’s and they locked there. “For saving my life.”

Silence gathered between them. Phil felt like he should say  _ something _ . Anything. But his vocal chords forgot their purpose. Dan’s eyes were so richly brown in this light, the golden fireplace flickered in the corners of his irises. His cheeks were soft and shadowed blue. He looked younger now, calmer. Opened all his gates. It was mesmerizing.

“You really are a hero, you know,” Phil said, unsure what captained his brain to speak. “Even if—even if you don’t see yourself that way. You’re selfless, and good. You’re the bravest person I’ve met.”

A smile twitched on Dan’s mouth. Pink bloomed on his cheeks. He was so breathtaking, Phil went numb.

The rain pattered outside in a continual rhythm. Dan’s attention flickered between Phil’s eyes then mouth. He blinked, eyelids heavy. Phil’s pulse hammered in his ears. The air between them felt too thick, too intimate.

An invisible tug pulled them inward, slowly, wary. Phil’s brain morphed to mush, he wasn’t sure what was directing his movements now. His arms uncrossed and he only wanted to touch Dan. 

They were so close now. Reaching, he touched Dan’s cheek, delicate as glass. Phil could see himself trembling. Dan was warm.

Dan’s breathing only quickened. His eyes didn’t know where to land. “We…” he began.

That invisible tug didn’t stop. Phil didn’t fight it, and neither did Dan. He had no idea what he was doing.

The distance between their faces was only a breath away. Then their lips met.

And he was kissing Dan.

Phil might as well have jumped off a cliff. The world felt as if it was rushing past him, popping his eardrums and crushing his chest. But his feet remained attached to the floor. Either his pulse slammed loudly or he was too preoccupied to notice. The latter seemed most logical.

Dan’s mouth was so soft. Electric. The most perfect thing in the world. Phil’s thumb brushed against his cheek.

Inhaling sharply, Dan pulled away suddenly. “Phil, no, we…” His eyelids were still at half-mast, though his irises darted left and right. “We shouldn’t. I’m…” His gaze landed on Phil’s mouth again. “And you’re…”

Not finishing his sentence, he surged forward to kiss him again. 

Phil had no complaints whatsoever.

Maybe he wasn’t falling. Maybe Phil was dissolving. Evaporating away so nothing mattered except how Dan’s mouth pressed against his. Steadfast yet gentle, parting and catching his bottom lip. One hand escaped from under his cocoon blanket, blindly reaching forward until it touched Phil’s tunic. His fingers grasped the fabric. 

It ended all too soon. Dan detached, lips red and shiny. Despite the intimate distance between him and Phil, Dan had trouble looking at him. “We shouldn’t.” His voice wanted to be firm, but wavered at the end. 

“Oh. Okay.” Phil lowered his hand from Dan’s face.

Throat bobbing, Dan nodded curtly and stepped away from him. Blanket wrapped tightly around him, he strode away, not meeting Phil’s face once.

Dan left the room and shut the door behind him. Phil remained where he was next to the opened window, facing the spot Dan once was. The shower of rain continued on.

His heart had never been more confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and feedback are always appreciated!! ty! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!! Its been a busy week of moving and unpacking, but I am settled now and the fic shall continue ! <3

_ The grand ballroom swirled tonight in an assortment of colorful gowns, lively music, and the finest culinary in the land. Handsome lords lifted their partners and spun them in the air. Phil was among them, giddy as he danced with Dan. _

_ He knew it was his birthday and he knew he chose Dan as his spouse. Dan was smiling, glowing like an angel. He agreed to the engagement, and Phil knew this. The King and Queen were watching in happy approval. _

_ Dan stopped dancing, even though all the other colors continued twirling around them. “Come here,” he said, dimples denting his cheeks. He took Phil’s face in his hands and kissed him. _

_ Phil felt as if his chest erupted into a hundred butterflies. _

But he woke up, and he wasn’t at the ball. Instead, Phil laid on his belly in the comfy white bed at the Vanden inn. After Dan left last night he didn’t know what to do, so he slept. And apparently his subconscious wasn’t helping his emotional balance.

The spot next to him—Dan’s spot—was rumpled but empty. Did he come back? Return, sleep next to Phil, then leave again? Phil pursed his lips and pushed himself up.

That’s when he heard trickling of water. Phil saw the paper screen was shut around the bath. A shadow indicated someone in particular was using it and washing his arms.

A sensation cartwheeled Phil’s heart, not sure if it was delight or dread. Where had Dan gone last night? Was he upset at Phil? What if he hated him now?

Soon enough, Holly knocked on the door and brought breakfast—jam and toast. Dan stepped out of the bath in time to change and join Phil at the door, not looking at him but thanking her and saying, “We’re actually going to leave by afternoon.”

“Oh!” Holly nodded. “I’ll have my brother prepare your horse and wagon right away then.”

After eating and thanking the innkeeper for all her help, they quickly gathered new supplies from the few merchants Vanden had. With money from the coin pouch, they purchased food, blankets, spare clothes, and extra necessities. Dan spoke to Phil in a very business-like manner. His eyes seemed tired. 

It was odd, and Phil wanted to say something. But also he wanted to  _ not  _ say something. Perhaps events will trickle back to normal. 

Hopefully.

With the wagon full and Penelope ready, they headed east. Phil steered while next to him Dan examined the Raydora map they recently bought. Phil tried to make eye contact as Dan explained which paths they needed to take towards Bremington. The attempt ended unsuccessful.

The first time they stopped was because of a parchment nailed to a tree on the side of the road. Dan and Phil both stared at it in silence. It fluttered in the breeze, and looked almost new.

_ ATTENTION: If you see THIS MAN, report it IMMEDIATELY. He is an enchanter and DANGEROUS. He is guilty of kidnapping and treason against our KINGDOM and KING AND QUEEN. _

Under those bold words was a sketch of a boy way too accurate to Dan’s appearance. Dan scowled at it. “Fucking fantastic. Her tracking spell won’t work so she’s literally pulling out all other forces here.” He shook out the map and took his eyes back to it. “Four more miles, then you’ll turn left.”

So they continued on.

Day one towards Bremington and they were making good time. “Do you remember the name of the mermaid we’re supposed to get that Kiss from? Did she have one? And where should we go next to find the others?” Dan tended to worry out loud. Phil listened patiently.

For the night, Phil took the job of feeding Penelope and making sure she was comfortable. Dan noticed this as he cared for their campfire, and he said to Phil, “I thought you weren’t a fan of horses?”

Caught off guard by Dan’s normal voice, Phil distracted himself by petting Penelope's coarse mane before saying, “She’s not as frightening as the others.”

“She’s  _ huge _ .”

“She’s a gentle giant,” Phil defended.

Penelope blinked her large brown eyes at him. She was definitely calmer than the day they escaped the fortress. Perhaps she didn’t prefer her previous owners to begin with, Phil liked to think.

Dan stood and walked over to them, reaching out to pet her mane as well. Penelope twitched her triangular ears at the extra attention, and Dan smiled at her. “I suppose you’re right. As  _ usual _ .”

Phil looked over at him, and Dan’s eyes met his.

Only for a moment.

Dan coughed and went back to the fire. “So. I can take first watch if you wanna sleep.”

* * *

Day two, and Phil wished to do something about this weird atmosphere between the two of them. Part of him argued to mention, well, that they  _ kissed _ . And how Dan reacted.

But he didn’t. Instead, Phil glanced away from the road and to where Dan sat next to him on the wagon, tapping his chin as he studied the map. That crescent moon pendant hung around his neck—did he have it on yesterday?

In a split-second decision, Phil blurted, “Oh, good. You found that.”

Surprised at the broken silence, Dan snapped his head at him, but then glanced down and took the charm in his palm. “Oh. Yeah.” He hesitantly smiled at Phil. “Thanks for, uh, grabbing it.”

Still weird tension. “It’s pretty neat,” Phil said. “Looks handmade. Where did you get it?”

Dan looked down at it again. “I...made it.” Blush came to his ears. “When I was six. Or seven. I…” He fought back a flustered grin. “It’s so lame. I think I found a chunk of wood near the house and carved the only shape I thought would look fancy.”

“Very artistic of you.”

Dan gave Phil a face with a pout and an eyebrow raise that could only be translated to,  _ ‘Seriously?’ _

“Hey!” Phil laughed. “Give yourself some credit!” He nudged Dan with his elbow, and the tension dissolved a little. “Why do you still have it, may I ask?”

“Well—” More red came to his ears. “It’s stupid.”

“C’mon, tell me.”

“Phil…”

“Does it hold secret powers?” Phil wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you actually a cat and that pendant gives you a human disguise?”

“ _ What? _ ” Dan’s face scrunched in amusement. “No! No, I…” He paused to exhale. His shoulders relaxed. “I’m just proud of it, I guess.” His fingertips brushed against the carvings. “I made it completely without magic. No one taught me how to carve wood and yet, I did it.”

Sunlight hit the side of Dan’s face like a white glow. Phil was reminded of his eyes during the fire at the fortress. Blazing white and unwavering. To think, that Dan who conjured flames and destroyed a fortress was the same as this Dan, who blushed at the thought of childhood crafts.

Sighing, Dan looked ahead at the road. He dropped the pendant so it could tap off his tunic and said, “Mother wasn’t too happy with me when she found out.”

“Why’s that?”

“She was worried,” Dan said, quiet as if in thought. “She thought I had cut myself.”

_ Malenna?  _ The idea was unfathomable. Phil couldn’t even imagine that witch as anything other than sadistic and cruel, much less  _ motherly _ . Was Dan certain they were talking about the same person, the one who turned the river red and a man into ash at the castle before taking the entire Capital hostage?

Penelope trotted on. The pendant was tucked away into Dan’s tunic without another word.

* * *

Day three, and Phil’s legs began to cramp from the amount of traveling.

Five more  _ Wanted  _ posters about Dan. Two more posters that were specifically about the missing Prince Philip. Bremington was just over the next hill. Dan suggested both of them wear hooded cloaks, for safety purposes.

Even from their location, Phil could smell the sharpness of salt water air. Despite never visiting, he knew about the cities bordering the oceans. Lively in people and rich from sea exports. Rumor has it they have the best celebrations in all the land.

Speaking of which, Bremington must be having one going on now.

Penelope pulled them up to the smooth-stone wall surrounding the city, and Phil tugged the reins for her to stop at the gatekeeper. It was a man with armor and a sword. He smiled brightly at the two of them. “Good morning, lads!” Their cloaks must not be too concerning after all. “Are you here for the festival?”

Craning his head, Phil could spot over the wall was colorful banners among pointed rooftops. “Festival?” he asked.

“Actually, no,” Dan answered, dropping two silver coins in the gatekeeper’s palm. “Just here for business.”

The gatekeeper certainly didn’t complain about Dan’s payment, in fact he rubbed the coins between his fingertips. “Shame. The Kissing Festival is proclaimed throughout Raydora. Folks from all over come to celebrate!”

“Thanks, but we’ll have to pass,” Dan said, waiting for the tall gates to open so Penelope could continue inside.

Phil, however, was still processing that new information. How convenient, considering they were indeed looking for a Kiss.

(How ironic, given his and Dan’s current situation). 

Bremington was alive in colors of purple, blue, and yellow. The town stretched to the ocean, the Sapphire Sea specifically. Phil saw fishing docks and beaches not too far away. In the town itself, people draped garlands across their shops while others sketched chalk pictures on the street. Children in crowns of flowers chased each other in a game. Musicians were practicing tonight’s tune near the courtyard fountain.

Compared to other towns, Phil had never seen one so happy. He almost wished he didn’t have to hide under a cloak, just so he could open himself to all of it

Atop the courtyard fountain was a statue of a mermaid. She had two tails, which was unusual, and had one hand resting over her breasts. The other hand reached outward, and a stream of real water came from the center of her stone palm. She must be a goddess, of whatever religion Bremington practiced. But a mermaid goddess, no less.

It did tell them one thing: merfolk were common here.

They found a stable for Penelope and the wagon. Dan gave another silver coin to the stable boy, who was a satyr no younger than thirteen. “Say,” Dan mentioned to him casually. “Since it’s a festival, will the daughter of the merfolk’s chieftain be making a visit?”

The stable boy, enchanted by the gleam of his new treasure, replied, “Yeah, ‘course. All the merfolk come up at night to celebrate.”

Dan turned to Phil, mouthing, ‘ _ Perfect _ .’

“What shall we do until then?” Phil whispered as they walked away, the bustling people of Bremington weaving around them. He expected Dan to suggest finding a vacant inn, or to plan out their next step.

Instead, Dan put his hands on his hips and gazed out upon the town. “I’m starving,” he said.

They discovered a vendor who sold cupcakes sprinkled in flakes of chocolate. “Have a happy celebration!” She smiled, and her face folded in a dozen wrinkles.

“Why is it called the Kissing Festival?” Phil asked her, licking some frosting from his fingers (Dan snickered at his messiness). “Was kissing invented here or something?”

The vendor laughed. “No, no! This has been a tradition going back centuries, even when the dragons still existed. With all the pain and struggles in this world, why not take one day to just push that all aside to celebrate  _ love _ , in all its pureness? Hm?”

Phil chewed his cupcake, nodding.

She shooed at them. “Now hurry along! The festival is going to begin!”

Jaunty music began near the fountain. Bremington citizens swarmed in the town’s square, knocking shoulders but laughing it off. Phil, one who wasn’t a fan of crowds, huddled closer to Dan.

A satyr girl came up to him, looking closer to Phil’s age than the stable boy. Her goat legs were tawny brown, and she was decorated in necklaces of flowers, as well as carrying a dozen from her wrists. “Here you go!” She lifted a necklace up for Phil, smiling. The flowers were a mix of pink and white.

Phil, slightly overwhelmed, pushed back the hood of his cloak. She had to stand on the tips of her hooves to put the necklace around him. “Perfect!” Then she grabbed his face and kissed him.

The shock felt as if he had been shot with an arrow. But it only lasted for a moment. She pulled back and giggled at him before turning away, distributing more necklaces and kissing those people as well.

Kissing Festival. Phil should have been more prepared. Dan, surprisingly, cackled in laughter. “Phil!” He squeaked. “You should’ve have seen your face!”

Blushing, Phil elbowed Dan in the ribs. “Shut up.”

People kissed left and right. Dan received a kiss from a boy who handed out flower crowns (Dan’s was purple and orange). They both received one from a fairy who sprinkled glitter atop their hair. In the middle of watching people dancing near the musicians, a gentleman stumbled into Phil, apologized, and ended their conversation with a kiss.

It was utterly ridiculous yet so,  _ so  _ fun.

“Care to dance with me?” asked a young man who had come up to Phil, his face also donned in silver glitter. 

Phil, midway drinking a free beverage, almost sputtered it out. He turned away from Dan, then glanced between the two. “Me?”

The man grinned. He was only a few inches shorter than Phil and had blond hair, bleached by the sun. “Of course, you.”

He tugged on Phil’s arm, encouraging. Dan rolled his eyes, but he mouthed to Phil, ‘ _ Go on _ ’ before taking his goblet from him.

The fiddlers were fast but the surrounding dancers were faster, and more silly. The drinks he had earlier left his veins bubbling, but natural shyness took over for a second. Phil glanced over his shoulder, looking for Dan.

The young man took both his hands. “C’mon. I’ll take the lead.”

The amount of spinning was nauseating but it all happened in such a whirlwind that Phil couldn’t complain. The man held him by the hand and waist, twirling them and jumping and throwing their arms above their heads. Even though Phil didn’t know the routine like everyone else, the surge of confidence from the bubbly beverage kept him from feeling foolish. He giggled with his fumbles. Onlookers were whooping and clapping along with the song.

In a moment where he wasn’t spinning, Phil peered out at the crowd. Dan was there, clapping along. His smile was partially there, more sour than cheerful. He caught Phil’s eye, and looked away quickly.

Phil’s heart sank.

“Hey!” The man had to shout at Phil over the music. “What’s your name?”

“Uh.” Phil blinked over at him. “Michael.”

“Michael.” He smiled. His teeth were straight as bricks. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gideon.” He tugged Phil closer and kissed him, as quick as the others had. But when Gideon pulled away, he hummed. “You’re a very good kisser, Michael.”

“Thank you!” The compliment left Phil pleasantly surprised. To think, at his recent birthday he hadn’t even courted a single person, and now he had probably kissed half a dozen people since noon.

“Your boyfriend must be so lucky.”

Boyfr—? Oh. That reminded him...Phil turned back to the crowd, trying to find Dan. He wasn’t at the spot where Phil saw him previously. In fact, Phil couldn’t find him anywhere.

“Uh.” Phil stepped away from Gideon, whose face dropped to confusion. “I...I have to go.” He awkwardly gestured behind him. “Sorry.”

People flooded the streets shoulder-to-shoulder, how on earth was he going to find Dan here? Panic spiked his pulse, and Phil craned his head left and right, trying to find an equally tall person among everyone else. Glitter fell from his forehead with every turn. Oh  _ shit _ —their hoods were down. Did someone recognize Dan? Was he captured again?!

Phil shoved his way past more celebrators, ready to march up to any single person and plea to help save Dan—when the problem came to a halt.

Outside a modest pub with less of a gathering, two trolls and a bald human man chortled together as they drank from their goblets. Leaning against the pub’s window was a particular someone with a crown of flowers, which sat askew on his hair. He laughed loudly along with the men, lifting his goblet as well.

“Hey! You’re here!” Dan greeted Phil, holding his arms out. The anxiety from losing Dan vanished all the giddiness Phil’s drink granted him. He smiled half-heartedly as he approached. “Fellas, this here is that guy I told you about!” Dan then threw an arm around Phil’s shoulders, grinning like an idiot. 

Alright, so definitely not sober.

“Aye! Greetings!” said one of the trolls, the one with the bigger belly. Funny enough, two daisies were tucked above his pointed ears. “James here told us all about your expedition.”

“ _ Expedition? _ ” Phil cocked an eyebrow at Dan.

“Your studies of the merfolk culture?” said the bald man, shortest among the five. “Best of luck to you, mate. Those creatures are as mysterious as the ocean itself.”

“ _ But _ ,” Dan said, jabbing Phil’s chest with a finger. “Guess what? They told us the merfolk are coming tonight! Just after sundown!”

“Aye,” the second troll confirmed. He wore four different flower necklaces. “Right as it starts to slip under the horizon. They’ll play some of their music, kiss a few people, watch the fireworks, then leave. Just like every year.”

Dan nodded excitedly at Phil, eyes unfocused.

“Wow.” Phil nodded slowly too, taken aback by this sudden information. The sky hadn’t even begun changing colors, they had plenty of time. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Come back some other time, huh James?” Potbelly troll slapped Dan on the shoulder just as he took another drink. Violet liquid spilled onto Dan’s chin. “And you,” he pointed to Phil, “take care of him, yeah?”

Then the short man planted a messy kiss to Dan’s cheek. The three chortled together while they departed. Phil stepped away from under Dan’s arm, giving him a crossed look his mother would be proud of.

Dan was wiping his chin with his wrist. “What?” he asked Phil.

“I was looking for you! And you were getting drunk with— _ those _ guys.”

“ _ Relax _ , I’m not drunk,” Dan said with perfect diction. He shuffled to stand straight, still leaning against the window of the pub but otherwise, perfectly balanced. 

Oh. Perhaps it was an act. Phil felt a little embarrassed for falling for it too. “So, you became their buddies for information?”

Dan clicked his tongue and winked. “Exactly.” He finished the last of his beverage and tossed his mug aside before asking, “What happened to that guy you were dancing with?” There was an edge to his voice. As he asked this, the flower crown began sliding off his head.

“I left to find you—Good  _ gods _ , Dan.” Phil interrupted himself to catch the crown before it fell to the ground. “You’re a mess.”

Dan smirked, waiting patiently as Phil readjusted it atop his hair. “Thank you for that,” he said. “Are you going to kiss me too?”

He meant it as a joke to the traditions before, but when the realization settled between them, Dan’s grin faded and his gaze dropped from Phil’s face. The festival continued on, but it might as well be an echo of a memory. Uneasy as well, Phil stood there in silence, mouth closed and watching Dan’s expression.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, quiet enough to be a whisper.

There was glitter on Dan’s cheeks. It twinkled when he looked up at Phil, eyes in two vulnerable circles, just like that night in Vanden. He looked scared and far too young. But he swallowed once, then replied, “Yeah.”

It didn’t matter if anyone was watching. Phil let himself lean in, eyelids fluttering. Dan was the one to reach forward, touch his face, cradling him with both hands. His thumbs braced just next to Phil’s ears. He was breathing too quickly. They both were.

But they kissed, as easy as the first time. They kissed, and Phil suddenly was drowning. Engulfed and too busy to find air. Dan was nothing but soft and solid at once, an anchor to a whirling wind. A cushion of bliss.

Phil went closer, tilting his head and finding Dan’s shoulders to hold on to. It was like falling into a dream. An endless, happy dream. 

His mouth moved with Phil’s by little uplifts of his chin, encouraging him to keep kissing, please keep kissing. Phil’s front teeth caught on Dan’s bottom lip. Inhaling, Dan brought him closer and pressed their bodies together. 

At this point, Phil practically pinned Dan between him and the pub window, although neither complained.

Dan broke for air once but it hardly lasted for more than a second. He dived for another kiss, making a little noise against Phil’s mouth. A mix between a whine and a moan.

Phil smiled, and he felt Dan’s smile too.

A sudden knock against glass broke them apart in an instant. Someone from inside the pub was shaking his head and grinning at them. “ _ Save some for the rest of us, eh boys? _ ” His buddies from inside laughed before returning to their drinks.

Phil blushed and turned back to Dan, who was so close their noses bumped each other’s. “Oh. Whoops.”

“Whoops,” Dan repeated, breathless but fond. He planted a lingering, chaste kiss to the corner of Phil’s mouth. 

“Dan…” Phil whispered, the memory of Vanden coming back. How Dan tore away then left without explanation. Why was this time different?

“Mm?” Dan kissed Phil properly again, slotting their lips, parting them to continue on as passionately as before.

It took every ounce of Phil’s being to pull away and say, “I want…” On second thought, did he  _ want  _ to talk about this now, or continue on with their activity? The latter seemed far,  _ far  _ more appealing at the moment.

Chatter and music but all Phil’s world involved Dan’s long eyelashes that fanned his cheekbones prettily as he stared at Phil’s lips.

“We,” Dan said, voice lower, “have time.”

Time until the sun went down, Phil understood what he meant. Still dazed, he’s surprised his brain remembered how to nod. 

With his head still up in the clouds, he felt his hand link with Dan’s, and his feet carried him down the street to find an inn of any sort.


End file.
